I'd Lie
by Kyoshi7989
Summary: “Care to play a game of 20 questions? One for each day you spend here. By the end of those 20 days, I guarantee you’ll be in love with me.” Fortunately for Toph, some love stories just aren’t meant to happen. This isn’t one of them. AU. Tokka. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue: I Really Don't Like You

**Title: **I'd Lie

**Summary: **"Care to play a game of 20 questions? One for each day you spend here. By the end of those 20 days, I guarantee you'll be in love with me." Fortunately for Toph, some love stories just aren't meant to happen. This isn't one of them. AU Tokka

**A/N: **I am tentatively posting this story as a spin on the normal Tokka AU. I thought it would be interesting to write a introspective while Toph did not have a crush on Sokka, but, in fact, rather disliked him. I will continue it or not based on the feedback I received, although I do have a very good grasp on the plot of the story so far. Because of this, updates will probably be more regular and consistent then my other stories'. This being said--ON WITH THE TOKKA!!!!!!!!!

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* * *

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I couldn't believe I was agreeing to this.

Really, I couldn't. I mean, sure I'd do anything to get away from my parents—

But this was a bit much.

It wasn't that I _hated_ Sokka Kuruk—

I just really, really didn't like him. And now, as he grinned at me, in a way he must have thought irresistible, I was beginning to dislike him even more.

Sokka Kuruk. The most popular guy in school. He could have gotten any girl he wanted, but unfortunately—

He'd picked me.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as Sokka waited confidently for my answer. If I agreed to this, there was no way that I could lose anything from it. I got twenty days on the beach, and away from my parents—aka, Mr. and Mrs. Overprotective. So—

Even though I hated to give Sokka a reason to become even more arrogant then he already was, there was really no choice in the matter.

I sighed.

"_Yes."_

It was obviously going to help me get away from my parents for longer than I'd ever hoped, so…

Why did I have such a bad feeling about this?

Chapter 1: I Really Don't Like You

_Hate is a strong word  
But I really, really, really don't like you  
I really don't like you_

—Hate (I Really Don't Like You); The Plain White T's

**

* * *

**

I plopped my tray down on the cafeteria table, and gazed down, disgusted, at the quivering glop on my plate. I had no idea _why_ I bought this crap every day—

I could have had anything I wanted for lunch. But maybe that was it, the fact that I _could_ have had the best, but I chose _this_ instead.

Or maybe I just enjoyed infuriating my parents, who believed that cafeteria was too strong for their little Tophie's fragile digestive system. Coulda been that, too.

All the same, this was the last day for three months that I'd have to eat at Shaoling Academy. Today was the last day before summer break, and I couldn't decide whether to fell elated or disappointed. Pretty soon, I'd have to put up with the same nannies I'd had since I was three—Xin Fu and Master Yu—and be under constant surveillance.

_I'd do anything to get away from that_, I thought to myself.

(Here's a tip: be careful what you wish for. Fairy godmothers tend to pop in at the most inopportune times, after all. Mine had decided to take a break, and those fairy regulators musta got on her case or something, 'cause man, she was working her ass off. By "working her ass off" I mean "preparing to either completely ruin my life.")

Back to the story.

"Hey, Toph," an overly loud and incredibly obnoxious voice came from behind me, and I immediately scowled.

"Sokka," I muttered, not looking up from my lunch. Poking at the caked meat with the tip of my fork, I stoutly ignored his presence behind me.

After a moment, however, he went on, sliding into the empty chair beside me, "Care to play a game of twenty questions?"

I couldn't help but snort. "We're not in elementary school anymore, Kuruk," I said scornfully, taking a bite of my so-called meatloaf with a grimace.

"No, no, you don't understand. There's more than that," Sokka said airily. A pack of girls that had been trailing him all lunch squealed, and he shot them a poor attempt at a suave smile. All the same, they giggled and batted their eyelashes at him coyly. I felt sick—was this what the human race had come to? I waited a moment, however, until they'd left—albeit reluctantly—to join the lunch line. Idiotic this may have been, but I didn't want any eavesdroppers.

When I was sure they were out of earshot, I turn to Sokka and glared. "Just leave me alone," I snapped, rising up from the table with my tray clutched in my hands. Sokka followed my steps doggedly.

"You hate you're parents, don't you? What if you could get away from them for twenty days during this summer?" he called after me. I immediately froze, and turned around to face Sokka.

"Where'd you here that, huh?" I asked rudely, eyeing him suspiciously.

Ignoring me, he continued, "My family has a summer house—by the beach. My Dad said I could bring someone for the twenty days we stay there…Care to play a game of twenty questions?" he repeated, waggling his eyebrow. "One for each day you spend at my family's summer house, away from your parents—and with me. By the end of those twenty days, I _guarantee_ that you'll be in love with me. Like I am with you." He smiled at me.

I stared at him. Those eyes, that smile—so many girls had been pulled in by that look. I had to admit that he could have done much worse—Sokka could have had every girl in the school, if he'd wanted to. He could have broken a hundred hearts; ruined a hundred lives. Sometimes, I wished he _was_ like that, just so I could finally have a good reason to dislike him as I did.

But, as it was, I didn't know much about Sokka. Aside from all the excessive flirting and charming smiles, I had no idea what really went on in his life: for all I knew, he could still have been a virgin.

And yet, I still hated him that much. Life is amazing sometimes, isn't it?

Dumping my lunch into the trash, I considered my options. Sokka, or my parents? Sokka, or my parents?

All in all, it was a win-win situation. There was no _way_ I'd fall in love with _anyone_, let alone _Sokka_. The only hard part would be putting up with the moron for an entire twenty days.

So, even though I didn't realize it then, Fate already had things all mapped out for me.

I turned to face the coordinator of this deal, a pained expression on my face.

Although Sokka's confident smile remained on his face, I detected a bit of anxiety in his tone as he asked, "So? Are you in?"

I sighed. I couldn't believe that he'd roped me into this.

"Yes," I bit out, through gritted teeth.

"We'll pick you up tomorrow, at ten thirty," he told me, unable to keep a trace of smugness out of his voice.

I scowled. "Fine," I gnashed out, stalking back to my seat and slamming my empty tray down on the table. It was only after a moment that I noticed Sokka following me.

As he slid into the seat beside me, I pointed out coolly, "Hey, genius, it doesn't start until _tomorrow_, remember?"

"We are going to get to know each other," Sokka told me with authority. After a moment's thought, he added, "And you're right. I _am_ a genius, aren't I?" Shooting me a self-satisfied grin, he leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head.

"Hmph," I snorted.

"So, baby…" Sokka sidled up beside me, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I wanted to shudder at his very first attempt. God! If this was what those twenty days were going to be like—well, things were gonna be complete hell. "What you're favorite color?" he asked smoothly.

Shoving him off, I snapped, "Gerroff a' me! Don't got one," I said after a moment, frowning at a ruffled Sokka. "'M colorblind." Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew a chocolate Crunch bar—for emergencies only—and tore into it.

"Oh!" Sokka drew back, surprised. He seemed to be thinking hard, and I treasured the few seconds of silence. "So…" he furrowed his brow in confusion. "It would be like living in an old movie, right? Just black and white?" he asked, uncertain.

For a moment, I felt like slapping him. Then, I realized: This _was_ Sokka. He probably _wouldn't_ know anything about colorblindness. "No, I just can't tell colors apart from each other sometimes," I answered at last.

"Oh." Sokka paused. He seemed to be struggling with something. "Um…I got a black eye in seventh grade. And there were a bunch of colors…and stars…and stuff. Does that count?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's not a contest, doofus."

Sokka looked disappointed. "Oh." There was a moment of silence, before Sokka voiced yet another question: "Do you like boomerangs?"

This time, I turned to stare at him outright. "Um, _no_."

Horror flickered across his face. "What kind of monster _are_ you?!?!" he cried melodramatically, drawing back from me as if terrified. "Boomerangs are the only reason I get up in the morning!" Sokka paused. "Well, boomerangs and you," he seemed to feel the need to clarify on this point, and for what must have been the fifth time during the conversation I rolled my eyes.

"It's true," Sokka insisted. "You're the peanut butter to my jelly! The rock to my roll! The…the boomer to my ang!"

"You are really bad at pick-up lines, you know that?" I drawled, examining my nails with boredom. As if Sokka could ever _really_ be in love with me. Hopefully, by the end of the twenty days, he'd realize that and simply give up on me.

Sokka looked offended. "I can too come up with a could enough pick-up line—!"

"_Sure_ you can," I said, unconvinced. Yawning widely, I stretched my arms and scooted back from the table, hand over my mouth. "Sorry, Kuruk, but I gotta go. Gym calls, after all."

"I'm good at Gym!" Sokka karate-chopped in mid air, and he dropped to the ground, slithering around on his belly. "I'm quick like a ninja!" He darted up, shifty eyed. "And strong like…like a bear!" Snatching for something to lift, in order to prove his strength to a thoroughly uninterested—yeah, that's right, _me_—Sokka soon found himself in the possession of a giggling fangirl.

Looking down at her, he blinked. "Err—hi?" Sokka squeaked, cheeks steadily turning red. Interesting. However a lady's man he seemed to be, Sokka was woefully innocent.

I tucked this piece of information away in the back of my mind, waiting to bring it out when the time was right. I'd save it for the summer house, and embarrass Sokka so badly that he wouldn't know what hit him.

Accepting the opportunity that had come in the form of giggling girls and an embarrassed wooer-of-my-heart, I swaggered off to Gym, whilst plotting my Revenge on Sokka.

I was prepared for anything that Sokka could throw at me. No matter what, I swore to myself, I would _not_ fall in love with Sokka.

Nothing was gonna happen during those twenty days. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Nothing.

(Aside from the obvious throttling, of course. Come on, this is Sokka we're talking about.)

* * *

You know those times when Fate seems to sneak right up on you?

When you think everything's gonna turn out just peachy, but it doesn't happen at all like you think it will.

Well, this was one of those times.

See, I was forgetting Sokka's original request: _"Care to play a game of 20 question?"_

And, no matter how childish it seems, let me tell you this:

20 Questions is a lot less innocent a game then you'd think.

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Man I loved writing this:D. Please, tell me what you thought of it! 


	2. Chapter 1: Why Can't We Be Friends

**Title: **I'd Lie 

**Summary: **"Care to play a game of 20 questions? One for each day you spend here. By the end of those 20 days, I guarantee you'll be in love with me." Fortunately for Toph, some love stories just aren't meant to happen. This isn't one of them. AU Tokka

**A/N: **Nothing against country music lovers—I'm one myself. Just needed something for Toph to hate…After writing this chapter, I've found that the updating schedule will basically be once a week from now on.� That being said, it could be more often than that, since this chapter was longer than I'd planned.

Oh, and if you wanna vote on which 'possible story' I should post next--go to my profile for the poll.� Most are Tokka, though some are Kataang as well.� Nothing else I have to say, I don't think, so...ON WITH THE TOKKA!

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Do you know what I hate?

Well, I bet you could guess any number of times and be right, but I'll tell you the specifics anyway.

I _hate_—H-A-T-E—country music. Don't ask me why. It's just so—

I dunno. It's just so _hill-billy_. Sure, I can handle Carrie Underwood without going _completely_ insane (although it can come pretty damn close) but there are some that I would like to rip up into a million pieces.

And stomp on. That, too. Funnily enough, most of those I can't stand are the _male_ country singers (probably another omen that I'm destined to end up single, and be happy that way).

Now guess which album was being blasted throughout the car.

Yeah. That's right. _Brad Paisely_. My mom has a _crush_ on the dude. I didn't even know that boys were _allowed_ to like that kinda stuff—

But lo and behold, Sokka did.

I have nothing against _other people_ listening to it, but when _I_ was around—

No. Just no.

Could Sokka _get_ anymore annoying?

Apparently, yes.

"Do you mind, Toph?" Sokka asked innocently. I glared at him, hands covering my ears and sorely regretting ever agreeing to this stupid twenty days.

"Yes," I bit out. "Yes, I really do."

It was gonna be a long trip.

Chapter 1: Why Can't We Be Friends?

_Sometimes I don't speak too bright  
but yet I know what I'm talking about  
Why can't we be friends?  
Why can't we be friends?  
Why can't we be friends?  
Why can't we be friends?_

—Why Can't We Be Friends?; War

* * *

I bet you think you've heard bitching, right? Y'know, when someone's being so freakin' annoying that you just wish they'd crawl into a hole and die. Like, that annoying kid at school: all complaints and no comprendo.

Well, let me tell you: they have _nothing_ on my parents.

First, they tried to "straighten me out."

Then, they threatened me.

Then they started yelling.

And, finally, the Mr. and Mrs. Bei Fong finished off with a round of "we're-so-disappointed-in-you-how-could-you-betray-our-trust-blah-blah-blah-guilt-trip."

Applaud them. For two straight hours, I experienced pure and utter Hell. It would have last longer, I think, but they had to go off to a court case. I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for punctuality.

At last, I was left alone in the house, with only a half-packed suitcase and a jar of pickles to get me through twenty days of Sokka. Sighing, I fell back on my bed. Was it really worth it? All of this, just to get away from my parents…I could only hope that Sokka didn't want me spending every solitary moment with him.

If that happened, I'd probably go on a killing-spree and end up on CNN as a "wanted murder," followed by a sappy segment during which my parents sobbed into their handkerchiefs that they "never thought she was that kind of girl." Oh, God—they'd probably get signed up for Oprah and show the entire world my freakin' _baby pictures_. It would be like elementary school teacher conferences all over again.

Not to mention land me in jail with a moron of a cellmate and crappier food than you could ever find at Shaoling.

And I'd _also_ heard that prison therapy included overwhelming amounts of Mozart, Bach, and assorted classical music.

I had to admit, faced with _that_, I was tempted to call up Sokka and tell him that nuh-uh, I would _never_ spend twenty days straight with _anyone_—let alone _him_.

But, unfortunately, Fate didn't plan on giving me time to back out, for just as I'd decided that this was the worst mess I'd ever gotten my self into, the doorbell—the stupid, disgusting, loud, doom-impending doorbell—rang.

Obnoxiously loud, I might add.

Reaching for my suitcase and my pickles, I took the stairs in loud bumps, allowing my bag to thump down on each before taking the next step. When I'd finally reached the foyer, Sokka had his face pressed against the window, eyes darting about. I yanked about the door, and glared.

Straightening up sheepishly, Sokka, for some reason, felt the need to mention, "I though aliens had abducted you and taken you to their layer!"

Remind me why, exactly, Sokka was popular again?

Sighing loudly, I shoved my suitcase at him. Sokka stumbled backwards, surprised, and I offered him a short explanation: "This is my luggage. You will carry it for me the entire tripe. See this?" I held up the pickle jar, which had remained in my possession throughout the exchange. "Don't touch it, or I'll kill you. Comprendo?"

I didn't wait for his answer. Taking the brick walkway in huge strides, Sokka hurried to catch up. There was a soft click, and a swish of the air, but I ignored it and continued walking. "Not that this isn't a huge monument in our relationship—"

_What relationship? _I wanted to ask, but remained silent. Besides, I could take this opportunity to rub his so-called "strength" in his face. Ha! He couldn't even handle a suitcase—and half full, at that.

"—but is three pairs of underwear _really_ enough for twenty days of vacation?"

I spun around to see Sokka towering, red faced, my belongings spread out before him on the hard bricks. Letting out a hiss through my teeth as my eye caught on the torn bottom of my duffle bag, I attempted to fight back my anger.

It didn't work. "Pervert," I managed to get out, struggling against speechlessness. Stalking over with my head held high, I snatched up my assorted clothing—among…other things (somehow I didn't think Sokka would be familiar with them)—and marched back into the house.

"Toph—wait!" Sokka called, scrambling after me desperately. "I was only concerned for your wellbeing, I swear—!"

I snorted—somehow I found that highly doubtful—but only scoffed, "Moron. I'm just going to get a new bag, that's all."

Sokka paused. "Oh. Then let me help you in your quest!" he cried valiantly, charging into the house before I'd even stepped through the door.

"It's rude to come in uninvited," I couldn't help but point out snottily. Was it just me, or was Sokka especially annoying today? (Somehow, I felt like I'd be asking myself that a lot in the coming weeks.)

"But you need protection from…from the evil forces of darkness!" Sokka whined, looking at me imploringly.

I sighed heavily, before latching hold of his ear with a snicker. I'd always wanted to do this…Still grasping the stretchy flesh; I dragged a pained Sokka up the twenty-step stairs case with much enjoyment.

I'd have to do this more often. It was great for dealing with my anger issues.

Sokka clutched at his ear. "Ow ow ow ow ow!" he squealed girlishly, clutching at his ear and attempting to pry away my iron grip. "That _hurts_!"

"I'm glad," I retorted, at last relinquishing hold of his appendage as I stepped into my room. "Stay out," I barked, as Sokka began to enter my quarters. "I do _not_ want you in here, alright?"

And I didn't. Battered manga novels, my roughed-up skateboard, shiny rocks—all of the reasons I live—littered the floor. And bras, I noted, a slight blush coming to my cheek. I really hoped that Sokka hadn't felt like taking a good look around.

Stomping to my closet and relishing the loud thumps on my hardwood floor, I yanked open my closet. Reaching for my second duffel bag on the top shelf, I paused a moment to leaf through my clothes. I had been told that I needed to expand my horizons—that my entire wardrobe consisted of green and black.

As if I gave a crap.

But still. I wanted my hat. My badass-cool hat. My hat of incredibly awesome awesomeness—

Well, you get the picture.

Digging around in the pile of clothes thrown into my closet and strewn across the dusty floor, I reached deep into the folds of cloth and fabric. At last, my fingers closed around my hat. My badass-cool hat. My hat of incredibly awesome awesomeness—

Pulling it down tightly over my head, I was ready to go and _attempt_ to be nice to Sokka (why, you ask? Well freaking _duh_—I had my _hat_ with me now) but—

Well, as always, he had to go and mess everything up.

"_Please_ tell me you're gonna bring this swimsuit with you." I whirled around, to find Sokka standing their, practically _drooling_, with my striped bikini clutched protectively to his chest.

I felt like slapping the intrusive bastard.

How _dare_ he come in my room!

How _dare_ he go through my stuff!

How _dare_ he invite me in the first place!

How _dare_ he exist!

How _dare_ he _freaking fall in love with me_!

"Please, _please_ do us all a favor and take a long walk on a short pier," I snapped out at him, snatching back my bikini.

Sokka stared at me, looking put out. "I was looking at that! It's a sign of our _love_!" He looked at me, drawing up his chest and placing his hands on his hips in some sort of ridiculous super-hero pose. "Also—I am too _manly _to be killed by a _pier_!" Sokka declared, before adding, "And they world would _weep_ for me! Drown in an ocean of their own tears!" He seemed to realize something, and frowned. "Now that I think of it, my untimely death wouldn't be good for _anyone_!"

My jaw tightened. "It would make the world a hell of a lot nicer, I assure you," I bit out, teeth grinding.

Sokka looked crushed. "But Toph, our love—!"

Give the man a medal.

He had officially become the most annoying person in the entire freaking universe. Was it just me, or had I been using ridiculous amounts of the word 'freaking' today?

Scowling, I stomped out of the room and down the stairs. "Let's just go already," I shot back at him. "At this rate, we won't get there till the twenty days are already up."

…

Actually, now that I thought of it, that seemed like a pretty good idea.

But no such luck. Sokka followed me downstairs, making random statements about his _manliness_ and _love_ for me were so great they could take an entire _lifetime_ to explain.

I think I was gonna have to give him a book. Like, a 'Getting a Girl For Dummies' kinda book.

Don't get me wrong—I didn't want him to 'get' _me_. In fact, the guy shouldn't even be aloud to _reproduce_. But come on—I mean, you gotta know how to hit on someone properly. It's, like, a job requirement in fifty states. Trust me. I know. Every single freaking McDonalds I go to, someone there _hits on me_. And not all of them were guys.

Shudder.

As I yanked open the car door and slid into the passenger seat, Sokka asked, almost pleadingly, "So…did you bring the bikini?"

As a matter of fact, yes, I had. My revenge on Sokka would be swift and sweet…I had it all planned out.

His innocence would be the death of him.

"Pervert," I snorted, looking away. After a moment, though, I added, "Yeah. Yeah, actually, I did."

Sokka looked as though he'd just on the lottery.

Unfortunately for me, he seemed to take this new development as me "warming up to him."

As if I'd ever even _remotely_ like him. Or use such a clichéd metaphor on _anyone_, let alone myself.

Sidling up to me, one hand on the wheel and the other now laced around my shoulders, he asked, making a horrible attempt at a sexy smirk, "Want me to help you get it on?" Sokka's voice became high and squeaky halfway through, as though he was trying too hard to sound smooth and natural, but he didn't seem phased by it at all. In fact, Sokka was looking pretty damn pleased with himself, the bastard.

I stared at him, cheeks heating up despite myself. Okay, it was a _really_ sucky pick-up line—but still.

Maybe Sokka wasn't as innocent as I'd originally thought.

"No, thanks." I shoved him off of me for just about the fiftieth time in two days, heart racing faster and faster. Disgusted with myself, I aimed to quell my fluttering heartbeat. I was probably just…freaking out over the mention of implied-sex and such. Yeah. Totally.

So then why hadn't I felt like this when I'd found a stack of porno magazines in my Dad's bedroom drawer?

"I can dress myself—unlike _some_ of us here," I pointed out snidely, in an attempt to salvage the remains of my dignity and perhaps get "back in the mood."

"We _all_ need help sometimes, Toph," Sokka told me, as if he were an authority on the subject. "Even _I_ need help sometimes. I know it's hard to believe," he held up a hand patiently as I opened my mouth to tell him _ugh, asshole, stop with the drama already_, "but I'm not afraid to admit it—and you shouldn't be either."

I squinted at him. "Did you used to be a soap opera actor or something?"

"Well, no, as a matter of fact, I wasn't." Sokka smoothed back his hair and grinned at me. "But I supposed my natural charms and good looks _would_ be an asset to the camera, wouldn't they?"

"You don't _have_ any good looks," I told him, disgusted with this show of arrogance. Well, I'd finally found a cure for the heartbeat that just wouldn't stop racing: throw in a bit of Sokka being a jackass, and there I was, completely calm.

Sokka didn't look upset. "That's okay, Toph. Denial is the sincerest form of flattery."

"No, that's _imitation_, doofus, and I will _never_ be like you," I half snarled at him. I couldn't help it: I was just getting so fed up with all this 'oh-I-know-you're-in-love-with-me-even-though-you-aren't' sorta crap.

This time, Sokka looked at bit unsettled, but nevertheless regained his confidence within a few seconds. "Accepting your feelings will take time, but all wait for you," he announced grandly, while popping a disc into the C.D. player.

I eyed it apprehensively.

_Pleasedon'tbecountrypleasedon'tbecountrypleasedon'tbecountry_—

Lo and behold.

It was country.

And not _just_ country—no, my friend. Fate's far too cruel for _that_.

It was the mother of all my nightmares. It was horrifying. It was the guy my _mom_ had a _crush on_—

Yes. It was _Brad Paisley_.

There was only one solution for this.

Turning to Sokka, I stuck my fingers in my ears and glared.

"Do you mind, Toph?" he asked innocently, as if he didn't know damn well that I _hated_ country music, the stalker.

"Yes," I snapped, "Yes, I really do."

"But it's a _love_ song! It's _tragic_! _Romantic_! Chicks dig that kinda stuff…don't they?" he added, a bit uncertainly, as _Whiskey Lullaby_ boomed out of the speakers.

"Y'know, for all your smooth talk, you don't seem to know much about girls," I pointed out dryly, as Sokka turned the horrible, music-of-the-deaf off.

Ah. Sweet, sweet relief.

Sokka adjusted the mirror, glanced into it, and flashed himself a grin. "Hey there, good lookin'." He paused thoughtfully. "So…I'm really, really awesome, aren't I?"

And you can just guess where it went from there.

Well, I'd like to entertain you with the gory details of the rest of the drive, but I won't. Instead, I will summarize it in a way simple and easy to understand:

It. Was. Hell.

I'm serious. By the end of our trip, I was ready to _kill_ myself. With a dull spoon. _Anything_ to get away from Sokka.

I would have, too—if it hadn't been for my hat. My badass-cool hat. My awesome hat of awesomeness.

And when we stopped at McDonald's for lunch (He _forgot his wallet_. Yeah, and guess how much you can buy at McDonald's for _two dollars and sixty eight cents_? Not much, I'll tell you) someone hit on me. _Again_.

And worse? The dude was _gay_.

Yeah. Thanks, Haru. _That_ sure makes me feel _real_ feminine.

But, _finally_, we'd arrived at the beach house. It looked pretty big. Big enough for me to have my own room, thank god.

There was only one topic on my mind: get revenge on Sokka.

Operation 'Humiliate the Obsessive-Stalker-Like-Evil-Annoying-Arrogant-Dumbass-Name-Sokka' commence.

Unfortunately, the target in question wasn't really cooperating.

"Toph! We're he-ere!" Sokka sang out, lugging my luggage into the house.

"I'll take that," I swiftly reached over and snatched my bag from him as I stepped out of the car. After the last fiasco, I didn't give a crap about carrying my own luggage—Sokka could not be trusted.

Stretching and stifling a yawn, I followed Sokka inside. "Your room's on the second floor, first on the left—right next to mine. So if you wanna visit…" he winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. Pshaw. Idiot.

Digging around for the key in his pocket, Sokka unlocked the door and pulled it open for me. "Yes, yes, you can applaud," he announced grandly, taking a bow. Cue the eye roll, for the what—twentieth time in five minutes?

"I'm ready for my first question," I said, as we stepped inside. "Are you as rotten as I think you are?"

Sokka stroked his chin, dumping my bag on the first step of the upstairs staircase. "I dunno," he admitted easily, "I _can_ be pretty rotten."

I snorted. "I'll say." With that, I began to make the long and strenuous journey upstairs. What had I packed in here, anyway? _Rocks_?

As I remembered that _yes_, there _were_ rocks in there, I began to realize—much later than I should have—that my liking for geology had become somewhat of an obsession. Next thing I knew I'd be singing my rocks lullabies at night and tucking them into little, tiny rock beds.

Groaning, I plopped down on the stairs with my head in my hands.

"Sokka, you moron—how the hell'd I let you rope me into this!"

* * *

I'd like to say that things stayed like that. Horrible; crappy; suicide-inducing.

But no. They _didn't_.

Because Sokka—

Well, he actually wasn't as rotten as I thought he was.

You'd like me to go on—

I won't. It would spoil the story.

But seriously. Fate spins a mean sort of web, and there's a point where you just can't make your way out of it.

And I was never good at untangling things, anyway.


	3. Chapter 2: Just the Girl

**Title:** I'd Lie

**Summary:** "Care to play a game of 20 questions? One for each day you spend here. By the end of those 20 days, I guarantee you'll be in love with me." Fortunately for Toph, some love stories just aren't meant to happen. This isn't one of them. AU Tokka

**A/N:** I'm so sorry I've gone without updating for so long! The plot bunnies have attacked, multiple times—_In So Many Words_, _silver lining_, _intangibly _inevitable, and _dreamstuff_ (as well as two Naruto fics, _permanent _monday and _My Mother Got _Married) are all I can offer as pennance, lol. Two (_silver lining _and _In So Many _Words) are Tokka, if it helpls :D For all those that voted for _Of Homework and Hormones_ on my profile, it is now posted on fanfiction . net. Now ON WITH THE TOKKA!!

**Edit (4.13.08):** Because I am a review whore, but also because **chapter 2 has been majorly edited**, I'm reposting it in hopes that it'll get more feedback then last time. Thanks to the two who did review, though, cuz you guys are awesome :D.

* * *

I stared down at Sokka, drool drizzling onto his pillow, clutched to his chest.

His hair stuck up in a way resembling a chicken's ass, and he wore a peaceful, contented expression on his face as sunlight spilled around the crown of his head**—**almost like an angel's halo.

I scoffed at the prospect. Sokka? An angel? As _if_.

Snickering, I poked Sokka in the cheek, only to him give a snort in his sleep, roll over groggily, and continue his rest with a loud snore.

"And I dub thee Snoozles of Sleepy Ville," I announced to myself gleefully as the Sleeping Beauty slumbered on.

I was _never _gonna let him live this down.

* * *

_She's cold and she's cruel  
But she knows what she's doin'  
She pushed me in the pool  
At our last school reunion  
She laughs at my dreams  
But I dream about her laughter  
Strange as it seems  
She's the one I'm after  
__  
'cause she's bittersweet  
She knocks me off of my feet  
And I can't help myself  
I don't want anyone else  
She's a mystery  
She's too much for me  
But I keep comin' back for more  
She's just the girl I'm lookin' for  
_

—Just the Girl, Click Five

* * *

Okay. So.

I was at the beach house, right? Angsting. Simply angsting.

Which I continued to do for the following twelve hours. Hell, I even angsted in my _sleep_. Now that, my friends, is something to be proud of.

What was I angsting over, you ask? One word: _Sokka_. The Destroyer of My So-Called Perfect Summer. The Moron of the Century. The Last Person on Earth I'd Want to Spend My Time With.

Oh, yeah, that's right. I _capitalized it_.

When I woke up after a night of angstiness, I lay in bed for a while, staring to the ceiling. It actually turned out very productive—I was actually able to finish my list of 'How to Kill Yourself on a Short Notice, Due to the Most Annoying Person on Earth, AKA Sokka Kuruk.'

But, alas, as these sorts of things go, I got bored.

And went to find Sokka, because torturing him was just too much fun.

Besides, it was _freaking noon already_. What was he, my _grandmother_? Because seriously. Sleeping late is all good, but noon is _lunch time_. Noon is _wasting half your day in bed_. Wasting time that you could be playing video games or making stuff explode or hitting random strangers on the head. Or eating.

My stomach growled angrily at the mention of food. It's not like I rely on food for everything, but seriously! I hadn't eaten since last night!

And since I'd refused to come down for pizza, my dinner had consisted only of pickles and the surprising amount of juices you find in the jar with them. Which, now that I thought of it, might have contributed a bit to my stomach's indignation.

Stomping down the hall and into Sokka's room—not without snatching my badass-cool hat, my awesome hat of awesomeness, from it's place or honor on my dresser—I yanked open the door.

"Wow," I muttered, glancing around the room. Boomerangs were hung all over the walls, almost as trophies, and a plaque for 'Most Original Creation!' was displayed proudly over a shelf bearing a lopsided hat.

Well, at least I assumed it was a hat. I couldn't really tell—with a shudder, I imagined actually _wearing_ something that hideous.

I clutched my badass-cool hat—my awesome hat of awesomeness—protectively and tried not to shriek at the horrifying possibility of having to _put that thing on my freaking head_.

Trudging over to Sokka's bed, I stared down at the Creator of the Abomination That Has Nothing On My Hat, Because My Hat Is Just Pure Badass Awesomeness.

Drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth, and his fingers were tangled in his hair. Curled around his pillow with a content smile on his face, he almost looked…cute.

Brushing away these thoughts, I decided that the time for a nickname was in order.

"And I pronounce thee Snoozles of Sleep Ville!" I said after a moment, cackling to myself.

I was _never_ gonna let him live this down.

I reached for the window, and threw open the curtains. Poking Sokka in the cheek with unconcealed glee, I sang out, "Oh _Snoo-zles_! It's time to get _uh-up_!"

"Five more minutes…" Sokka moaned, clutching the pillow over his head.

My stomach growled. I was _hungry_. This could _not_ wait. "Hey, look!" I gasped, pointing out the window. "It's Chris Daughtry, right outside _your _beach house!"

Sokka leapt out of bed, completely alert. "Ohmigod _where_!" Scrabbling for the window, he peered out of it desperately. "Where the hell is he—?"

I stared at him. _Sokka_ was a _fangirl_? Who knew? "You're pathetic, you know that?" I told him disgustedly, as he continued—in vain—to search for Chris Daughtry.

"I—I was searching for your sake!" Sokka straightened up, having realized my ingenious prank and now attempting to regain his dignity. "'Cause…'cause chicks dig Chris Daughtry, right?"

Well, personally, I _loved_ Chris Daughtry and his music. But I wasn't going to tell him that, was I? Sokka would probably twist it around into some sort of sign that we were meant to be soul mates…

"No, I _hate_ Chris Daughtry," I told him, concealing a wince. _You have no _idea_ how much it hurt to say that_, I thought, scowling, as Sokka struggled to take off his white-T shirt and get dressed for lunch. Apparently, he was one of those T-shirt and boxers guys.

When it became apparent that Sokka had gotten impossibly tangled in his shirt, I rolled my eyes and marched over. After a bit of a struggled, the T-shirt slipped off of his head, into my hands….and soon fell to the floor as I found myself staring at him.

Now, I suppose that if you wanna get particular about is, Sokka is rather…cute. That's partly why he's so popular. But shirtless—

Oh my god. I was practically _drooling_. Stupid teenage hormones. Stupid shirtless guys. Stupid hot Sokka….

His chest sported a collection of well-defined—yet not overly built—muscles. That shouldn't have been enough to make me feel this way, though, so what the hell was going on?

Scowling, I muttered, "Get some clothes on," and turned away. Sokka, however, was persistent.

Leaning over my shoulder, he asked curiously, waggling an eyebrow (was it just me or did he do that a lot?), "Why? Don't you like me _better_ this way?" He flexed his arms proudly. "I'm _strong_, aren't I?" he asked knowingly.

"No, you are _not_," I insisted, glaring. "You are _wimpy_."

Sokka looked a bit put out. "But there so—muscle-y!" Tightening his stomach muscles and poking them with one finger, he goaded, "Come on, Toph—touch them. You know you want to…"

Hesitating, I reluctantly spread my hand on his taut stomach, shivering as our skin came in contact. Sokka looked surprised, as if he hadn't really expected me to do it. In all honesty, I hadn't expected myself to do it, either.

For a moment, we just stood there like statues, with the sun shining in through the window in shafts on the hardwood floor. I stared directly into his eyes, as if challenging him, and Sokka gazed back evenly.

After a few seconds, though, I snapped out of it. Pulling my hand away, I marched to the door. Pausing uncertainly at the doorway, I shot back at him, "Get dressed so we can go," and stalked off to, once again, angst in my bedroom.

But still, I was confused. What was happening? I definetely wasn't falling for Sokka—I was sure I'd have known it it was that. Besides, it was hardly even _possible_ for me to fall for _Sokka Kuruk_. In fact, it was against the laws of the freaking universe!

Groaning, I placed my head in my hands. _I must be losing it_, I thought dejectedly.

And I was absolutely _positive_ that I was. How else could any of this had happened? I hadn't even made fun of him within the past five minutes!

One thing was for sure: things weren't going the way I'd planned, and I didn't like it one bit.

* * *

"Hey, Toph—look at this!" Rolling my eyes, I turned away as Sokka once again attempted to stick and maintain a spoon on his nose. He was _so_ immature sometimes…

"Yeah, _really_ mature, Snoozles," I said aloud, returning to my surprisingly delectable cheeseburger. Sokka—or Snoozles, as I'd started to call him—had taken me to a small restaurant just down the street. I was still a little unnerved after our experience in the bedroom, but I did my best to ignore it. I'd decided in the end that it didn't really matter, now did it?

I wasn't gonna fall in love with _anyone_ on this vacation, and that was final.

Rolling my eyes as Sokka attempted to doodle a smiley face on his burger, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, I pushed back from the table and stretched a moment before walking over to the condiments. Snatching a few packets of ketchup (Sokka had used them all up while working on his 'masterpiece'), I marched back to the table.

Throwing the ketchup packets on the table, I asked, bored, "What are we gonna do after this?"

"Hm." Sokka scratched his chin in thought. "I know!" he exclaimed, as his eyes brightened. "We can go back to the beach house, and I can play you a song on the guitar!"

I stared at him, confused. "You mean _you_ know how to play?"

When Sokka nodded, I surpressed a hiss of displeasure. Dammit! Why was Fate trying to mess with me like this?!

There are only three things in the entire world that appeal to me as being plain old hot, alright? And they are, as followed:

**1. Having great abs, but not overly built**. Which, unfortunetely, Sokka was the poster child for.

**2.** **Playing _Kingdom Hearts_ as musch as I do**. I mean, come on! It's classic. And who cares if Disney sucks? Sora is freaking sexy, dammit!

**3.** **Playing the guitar**. Well, haven't _you_ ever had a fantasy of a guy just sitting down and playing your favorite song on his beat up guitar? And trust me, the beat-up-ness of the guitar would make it all the more sexy. (And who cares if I'm just a bit of a romantic! I mean, it's not like I'm ever gonna get the chance to experience any romance, but a girl can dream.)

Well, at least I knew that Snoozles had never touched a game as badass-awesome as Kingdom Hearts in his life. (I had to stop calling him that. 'Snoozles' sounded too...familiar. So, Sokka it was.)

"Do you want me to play you a song?" Sokka asked casually, leaning back in his chair. I debated my choices.

I could either fulfill my lifelong dream and listen to Sokka play—at the cost of my pride, 'cause no way did I wanna hafta fangirl over _him_, silently or no—or I could give up what was probably the only chance I'd ever have to experience number 3 on the list of the hottest things a guy could do or have. Ever.

I sighed inwardly. Number one seemed my only option. And after the bedroom fiasco, too! I guess it couldn't be helped...Fate just really, really hated me.

A lot.

"Fine," I grumbled, pushing my burger around my plate. "If you wanna play me a freaking song," I added grouchily, "Then goddammit, play me a freaking _song_."

You could practically see the sweat dropping off of Sokka's face. "Well," he laughed nervously, averting my eyes—could thing, too, 'cause I had a glare on, full power, "If that's what you want."

He swallowed. Smart man. Sokka was _right_ to fear me. "So...what song do you want me to play for you?"

"Hn." Rising from my seat, I tossed my meal into the trash as Sokka followed. As we stepped out of the tiny restaraunt, I asked—sure to keep that underlying crabby tone in my voice, "I dunno. Do you know any Nickelback songs? Lifehouse?"

"Yeah. A lot of Nickelbacks—most of them, actually. A few of Lifehouse's. And I'm pretty damn good at playing them, if I do say do myself," Sokka couldn't help but adding, perhaps a bit self-satisfied.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Now where do you wanna play to me?" I asked, examining my nails with a disinterested kind of boredom.

"I don't have my guitar with me," Sokka answered, almost mournfully, "Oh, my dear musical intrument—! But you can stay here while I ran back to the house and get it."

I shrugged with a sigh. "Fine. Go."

Sokka obliged, and I walked along the sidewalk, kicing rocks along the sea wall. Glancing out, I was still a bit surprised by the sight of the ocean—I hadn't paid much attention to it so far, but now that I had who knows how long before Sokka came back, I figured I might as well.

It was blue—at least, that's what they told me—and the waves moved up and down, up and down; in and out, in and out, in a way I percieved I could watch and bob on forever. I never much liked water, but strangely, even imagining it seemed relaxing, like being rocked to sleep by your mother in a cradle as a tiny little baby.

A more eloquent girl might have compared the ocean itself to a mother, but I didn't think like that—if anyone was to have been my mythical mother, I would have chosen the earth itself. Strong and unshakable, it was proud and unyielding—a bit like me. Never once did it let the wind sweep down and steal a piece of it without a good long fight first, or allow the fire to rage through it without growing back, however slowly, or put up with the water erroding its soil piece by piece without tree roots digging into its surface, fighting to the last to preserve their home.

Deciding that all this philosophical crap was too much for my blunt, straight-forward brain, I plopped down on the concrete wall, absent mindedly rollling around a few gravelly rocks in my hand. Before I knew it, it seemed, Sokka was panting and racing down the underpopulated road, guitar strung across his back.

I snorted. Guitar _strung_ across his back? "Yeah, very _punny_, Toph," I muttered to myself, to which a winded Sokka started, "Huh?" I cut him off with a dismissing flick of my wrist.

"So, hotshot, how 'bout a few songs?" I drawled, swinging my legs over the edge of the sea wall precariously. But today, I would tempt Fate. I would let myself hang over the beach, in danger of tumbling to its sandy floor, just as I would allow myself to hear Sokka play—perhaps not so great as the former, but still a chance to be taken.

After all, even if the chances of my falling in love with him were one in a million, one in a million is still a chance, however small.

"Sure," Sokka agreed, while lounging on the concrete beside me and experimentally plucking at his guitar. "So...which song?" he smiled at me, half self-satisfied, half eager to please. He reminded me of a proud little puppy, keeping its tale up straight but still yearning to sate the demands of its Master.

"How 'bout _Next Contestant_?" I suggested. It was one of my favorite songs, and if I was gonna get a free performance, who was I to complain about it?

"Err, yeah—sure!" Sokka agreed uncomfortably, picking out a few notes of the opening rift. I raised an eyebrow at him. God, the man was always so nervous about everything! You'd think that acting so smug when everyone else was around would give him a little self-confidence, but _no_—he always kept acting ridiculously skitty, like the smallest mistake would get him imprisoned for life.

Strumming his guitar, Sokka's fingers skillfully picked out the opening of the song. As I watched his slender fingers dart across the strings, plucking there, pulling here, and releasing a whirl of sound not entirely unpleasant on the ears, the most perverted corner of my mind pointed out, _Snoozle's is good with his hands, isn't he? Heh. Wonder how good he is in_—

I cut myself off with a flush as Sokka began to sing. (Teenage hormones, right? Perfectly normal. Yeah. Perfectly normal.) His voice was rougher than I imagined as he sang:

_I judge by what she's wearing  
Just how many heads I'm tearing  
Off of assholes coming on to her  
Each night seems like it's getting worse  
And I wish she'd take the night off  
So I don't have to fight off  
Every asshole coming on to her_

He paused at the proper place, playing the strings as easily as if he'd done it since birth. For all I knew, he had. God, I hated to admit it, but he was actually _good_ at this playing and singing stuff.

It was a sad, sad day for Toph Bei Fong.

_It happens every night she works  
They'll go and ask the DJ  
Find out just what would she say  
If they all tried coming on to her  
Don't they know it's never going to work__  
They think they'll get inside her  
With every drink they buy her  
As they all try coming on to her  
This time somebody's getting hurt_

As he gained confidence, partially due to my lack of negative response and his own enjoyment of the song, Sokka sent me a disarming smile that left my stomach in flutters. I cooled it quickly, furious at myself. This had to stop, and soon, or else I'd go completely insane!

But there was one song I'd like to hear before laying off Sokka's guitar music forever...and it was just one, right? What could one measly song do?

Nothing, considering I didn't even like him in the first place.

_Here comes the next contestant_

He began, obviously having a great time. I cut him off before he reached the chorus, holding up my hand in a gesture of, 'Wait, stop.'

"Hey..." I shifted uncomfortably. "Do you think you can play _You and Me_, by Lifehouse?"

For what must have been the fifth time that day, Sokka waggled his eyebrow at me. "I never knew that you were the _romantic_ type, Toph," he said, attempting to sound reproachful, as though resentful I hadn't told him sooner, but the underlying gleeful tone in his voice prevailed. I could only imagine with what horrors he'd try to woo my now.

And I _wasn't_ a romantic. I couldn't help it if I like just this _one_ song, and no I was_ not_ going soft, okay?! Lifehouse just has really, really good music.

"No, I'm not," I replied curtly. "If you're gonna play, Snoo—Sokka, then do it now."

He shrugged, perhaps with a hint of amused annoyance—that little bastard, _laughing_ at my admittedly controlling attitude! But I _had_ to be in control, with a goofball of a guy like _him_.

_What day is it? And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive  
I can't keep up and I can't back down  
I've been losing so much time_

I could feel tingles running down my spine. This had always been my fantasy: a guy singing my favorite song to _me_, and just _me_...Hey, even a badass girl like me is allowed to have a few daydreams.

The only problem was, this was the wrong guy singing it. Sokka wasn't right for me...was he?

I nearly puked at the prospect. Sokka and me? Us as a couple—or anything else, for that matter—was simply revolting.

So...why the hell was I enjoying this performance so damn much?

Brushing the thougth aside, I focused solely on the soft music flowing around the scene and entanting me into an almost dreamlike state.

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to lose  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_One of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right  
I'm tripping on words  
You've got my head spinning  
I don't know where to go from here_

Hell, forgot _tingles_—by now, I was so entranced I could feel myself nodding to the beat, eyes glued to Sokka.

And you know what? For once, it was gonna stay that way. I was just gonna sit back and let myself enjoy the performance for once.

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to prove  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_There's something about you now  
I can't quite figure out  
Everything she does is beautiful  
Everything she does is right_

As he reached the bridge, I sucked in my breath: by now, it was clear that Sokka was no longer singing a song—he was singing a song _to me_. Unable to decide what quite to make of this, I continued listening intently.

But still, that tiny voice persisted: Sokka was singing this song to me, and it shouldn't have mattered at all.

...So why did the mere _thought_ of it send my stomach into flip-flops and waves of happiness rushing through me?

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to lose  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you  
and me and all other people with nothing to do  
Nothing to prove  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_What day is it?  
And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive_

As Sokka finished, eyes closed and letting the last note fade softly, he slowly opened his eyes and gazed at me with a warm, loving expression on his face. I couldn't stand the thought—maybe Sokka really _was_ in love with me.

And even though the performance—for me, I remembered distantly, for me—was over, I could still feel snapshots of it running through my head like scurrying mice. This was—impossible! Unthinkable! Just plain stupid!

And it was dumb that I was even _worrying_ about this! My favorite song—of _course_ I'd enjoy a performance, made especially for me. It was only natural!

But that wasn't the problem. The problem was, when I had been listening to that wonderful, fleeting song, I hadn't been thinking about how well he played and sung the music.

I hadn't been thinking about my fifth grade crush, Teo.

I hadn't even been thinking about Lifehouse, the bands themselves.

No. There had been only one person on my mind as tingles ran down my spine and my world spun around me.

And his name was Sokka.

* * *

This...could be a problem...

I know what you're thinking: _huge_ understatement.

Because I might just have a crush on someone.

And that someone might just be Sokka.

But you know what? I'd just decided: I did _not_ have a crush on Sokka, nor did I like him in anyway. Ha! The idea was perposterous!

Besides, there was no way in hell—even now—that I could ever possibly fall in love with him.

Or at least that's what I told myself.


	4. Chapter 3: This Kiss

**Title:** I'd Lie

**Summary: **"Care to play a game of 20 questions? One for each day you spend here. By the end of those 20 days, I guarantee you'll be in love with me." Fortunately for Toph, some love stories just aren't meant to happen. This isn't one of them. AU Tokka

**A/N: **Barely got this chappie up, but here it is! I was working on my new collab with Twilight Rose2 :D Come on! Hop over to her profile page, and check it out! XD Also...I know NOTHING about what "punk" clothes are XD I took it off a really awesome modern Avatar Fanart on DeviantArt. So...err...please, those of you that DO know what punk clothes are and have realized that Toph's are not punk at all, don't hurt me! (ducks rotten tomato) Now...ON WITH THE TOKKA!!

**Edit (4.27.08):** I'm a moron, aren't I? I put the freaking dialogue phone call in _twice_. Arrgh, I'm lucky _anyone_ reviewed, let alone that I got, what--seventeen, eighteen of them? Which only means that you guys pwn even more than I though :D So, um, yeah. Fixed my idiotic mistake, so I guess it's all good now :D

* * *

**Dedicated to:  
PashaKovalevFangirl205, ****'cause I heard from Twilight Rose2 that her birthday was recently :D  
Twilight Rose2, 'cause she was nice enough to put up with my crappy first drafts while we worked on our collab, 'Leisure Activities' XD  
smilypie, because she left the nicest review for chapter 3, and inspired me to keep writing :D  
i-embrace-OCD, because she always, always reviews my stories. And likes them—which, let me tell you, is really something. XD**

**Thank you all so much :D**

**And a world of thanks to all my other reviewers as well. You rock my socks :D**

* * *

This was bad.

You know what? Maybe I'd enjoyed kissing Sokka. Maybe I hadn't.

But something _had_ to be done about it. I mean, it wasn't like I could _tell_ him that!

I glared at him, and tried to look menacing. "Okay! Question number 3! What the hell'd you do that for, ya pervert?!"

"Um! Accident!" Sokka whimpered back, pulling as far away from me as he could. "Toph, I it wasn't—! Not that I wouldn't want to—! But it wasn't like that—!"

"You _enjoyed_ it," I realized incredulously, heart still pounding. "You freaking _enjoyed_ it. You. Pervert."

Arrgh.

I was losing it.

I was _losing_ it.

Yep.

It was official.

I was freaking _losing_ it.

* * *

_It' s the way you love me  
It's a feeling like this  
It's centrifugal motion  
It's perpetual bliss  
It's that pivotal moment  
It's, ah, impossible  
This kiss, this kiss  
Unstoppable  
This kiss, this kiss_

—This Kiss, Faith Hill

* * *

It was to be expected that I'd sleep pretty late (1:28, to be exact) the next day, as I'd stayed up until 3 am listening to hard rock and harder rock on my iPod, in order to expel a certain song from my mind—hopefully forever.

It wasn't any good, though. I listened to Nickleback, Three Days' Grace, Linkin Park, My Chemical Romance, Daughtry, even Avril Lavigne (my favorite singer since twelve), but to no avail. 'You and Me'—Sokka's version, of course—kept echoing through my head the entire time.

In the end, I decided that listening to some of Lifehouse's other songs might help me get it out of my head, y'know? It was a last resort kinda thing. Didn't turn out like I'd planned.

'Cause see, eventually I decided that hell with it, listening to the original version of the song probably couldn't hurt. So, as it happened, I fell asleep listening to the very song I'd been trying to avoid all night.

And the worst thing yet?

During the night, I musta rolled over onto my cell phone and pressed the 'record' button. Somethin' weird like that.

'Cause when I saw the File of Doom and, y'know, clicked on it—like any sane person would—I discovered a horrible, crushing, and slightly disturbing thing.

I'd been calling out for someone in my sleep.

And you know who that someone was?

Yeah.

Sokka.

For no reason.

At all.

I mean, I wasn't even having a freaking _nightmare_! (Trust me, I'd know.) I was just sleeping, or whatever, and calling out Sokka's name.

Which is also really weird. Since I don't do that kinda stuff. Like, ever.

Arrgh.

My life freaking sucked right now. I was _not_ falling for Sokka Kuruk, all right? I. Was. _**NOT**_. It wasn't _my_ fault if he was played the guitar and had great abs and was really freaking cute!

_Oh. My. God_, I realized with horror, _Did I just call him….?_

Yes. Yes I had. Within the confides of my _overly imaginative mind _I had called Sokka Kuruk, the reason for my nightmares, _cute_ (and also said that he had great abs. But that was true, so it was different).

Sighing angrily, I plopped out of bed with the worst case of bed head ever, yanked on the punkiest outfit I could find (my black jeans, metal studded belt, and a green and black T-shirt), grabbed my board, and darted outside for a few hours of grinding, skidding, and letting out all of the stress-ish-ness I'd felt over the past few days.

I didn't see Sokka on my way out, so I assumed he must be running an errand or at the beach or whatever. Frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to skateboard, without any interruptions—especially my incredibly-agitating roommate.

As I leapt out the door, I slipped onto my board and skidded down the steps. Ah, the sweet grinding of the wheels against the concrete...the break-neck feeling of being one step away from falling…the swerves and turns I took as I skidded down the street, doing the old cliché and letting my skateboard roll under sidewalk benches as I ran over them, only to be reacquainted on the other side.

I'd missed the feeling.

Switching on my iPod, music blasted through my earphones. This time, it was Avril Lavigne—not as hard rock as I'd have liked, but she was kinda punk-y, I guess. So it was all good.

I flipped through the list of songs while grinding by the curb until I reached one of my favorites. Humming along to the words, I muttered under my breath:

"_Am I just some chick you placed beside you,  
To take somebody's place?  
When you turn around can you recognize my face..?  
You used to love me, you used to hug me  
But that wasn't the case,  
Everything wasn't okay..._

_"I was left to cry there  
Waiting outside there  
Grinnin' with a lost stare  
That's when I decided..._

_"Why should I care?  
'Cause you weren't there when I was scared,  
I was so alone  
You, you need to listen  
I'm startin' to trip  
I'm losin' my grip  
And I'm in this thing alone"_

Now that I thought of it, I was losing _my_ grip, too—but in a different way. I hated to admit it, but the iron-hold I'd had on my emotions and thoughts had slowly been peeled away, finger by finger. I could only hope that I could wrap my hand around my life just as closely as I had in the beginning, or—or I didn't know what happened.

Besides, it seemed like this was moving all too fast. One day I hated Sokka Kuruk; the next I was getting hot over a freaking _song_. And now—_now_—I just didn't know.

The only thing I _could_ be assured of was that it took a while to really, truly fall in love. Which wasn't gonna happen in the first place. But even if I happened to start liking Sokka a _little_—well, it would be simple enough to hide. I just had to keep either of us from taking the initiative and…I dunno…doing something stupid.

Because falling in love with Sokka was the worst thing that could ever happen. Even if it was almost totally completely impossible. Worst came to worst, then I could leave a few days early. Sokka couldn't stop me. And what were a few days away from my parents, anyway? You win some, you lose some. That was just life.

Except I wasn't used to losing. So it wasn't really something I wanted to do in the near future.

Frustrated, I skated furiously over to a decorative rock placed on the edge of the park sidewalk. Preparing to jump over it, I crouched down on my board and leapt. But something happened—I dunno what. It all happened so fast. It was like one second I was in the air, relishing the feeling of leaping, untethered, above the ground—

And the next I was sprawled out on the gritty concrete, iPod having taken a hard fall and an excruciating pain in my foot.

"Ugh…" I groaned, clutching my poor foot in my hands, only to draw back with a small shriek as a sharp jolt of burning-hot pain shot up my leg. "Oh, God…" I muttered to myself, eyeing my foot apprehensively.

If I was right (like I always am, duh) then I'd _sprained_ (not broken—I'd broken something before, and believe it or not, it hurt a hell of a lot more than _this_) my _foot_.

"_Shit_," I hissed.

No, wait—this went way beyond _shit_. I mean, no skateboarding for at least a month?

This went way beyond _shit_. This was…_fuck_.

Yeah, that's right.

_Fuck_.

I considered calling Sokka, to come pick me up or carry me home, but my pride just wouldn't allow it. I'd wait it out; see how long I could handle it. And then...only then, would I so much as _think_ about calling that annoying little bastard.

With my new refusal to be helped in mind, I sat back, and waited it out. Ironically, it happened soon enough, but for a different reason than I imagined: see, I could handle the pain just fine, or at least for a little longer.

But as it was, it was the total lack of anything to do that got to me. You see, after around five minutes, I grew bored. After examining my foot and feeling along the bone line carefully—not without a few winces—I concluded with a sigh of relief that it was only a sprain. As it was, it was still aching and giving me a hell of a lot of trouble, but I was pretty sure it wasn't a break. I'd broken my arm when I was seven years old, and it had hurt a hell of a lot more than this.

I've only cried three times in my entire life.

That was the first.

The second…I scowled. I didn't like being reminded. But when old Iroh had died, it had been…horrible. He'd been the only one ever to understand me.

And the third.

Let's just say that there's a reason that I didn't believe in happy endings.

Sighing, I reached for my cellphone, and punched in Sokka's number. My pride would soon be hurt worse then my foot. "Come on, pick up," I hissed, as I waited for him to pick up.

At last the ringing was brought to an end, with a muffled, "Hello?" from the other line.

"Snoozles," I greeted grudgingly.

"Toph? Is that you?" Sokka asked, surprised. "Why'd you call?"

"Oh. Yeah." I cleared my throat. My pride was going to take a harder fall then my foot. "I hurt my foot. Not broken. Just hurt. So I can't walk. At all."

There was a long silence. At last, Sokka began, "Um, so, do you need me to—?"

"Which kinda means you hafta come get me and carry me back." I didn't let him finish. "Don't say anything—just get here fast, alright?" With that, I hung up. I didn't wanna leave time for Sokka to make one of his dumb comments.

Sokka finally arrived about ten minutes later, during which I listened to _Losing Grip_ twice more, picked at a scab I hadn't known I'd gotten, and wondered how the hell this had happened in the first place.

"Oh, lemme guess—you saw _Chris Daughtry_ and had to stop to get his autograph," I voiced sarcastically as he walked over to me.

"Not that it wouldn't be cool, but I was getting an icepack," Sokka answered, holding up the cold, plastic bag he'd brought with him. A wave of relief shot through me just looking at it.

"Okay," I admitted grudgingly. "Excused."

"Okay, wrap your arms around my neck," Sokka instructed, kneeling down beside me and gently scooping me up in his arms.

I looped my arms around him, unable to keep a light blush from my cheeks. The world swayed as Sokka rushed up, cradling me in his arms bridal-style. I'd never noticed how far away the ground could look from five feet up…

"Just don't look down," Sokka suggested, taking the first perilous step towards the beach house.

I gulped. It was a little late for that.

As it was, I was too busy freaking to notice the stray rock in Sokka's path, until it was too late. "Hey, watch out—" I began, really, really not wanting to fall on my ass, but don't worry.

Fate had something much, _much_ worse in store for me.

As Sokka stumbled on the rock, he couldn't drop me, like any sane person would. Not _Sokka_, the biggest dumbass on the planet. Never.

Instead, in some insane motion of protection, he pulled me closer to him, while his head jerked downward. And somewhere along the way—

Well. Somewhere along the way, his lips become planted on mine.

My eyes went wide, and my cheeks went red. His mouth was soft—not like I'd imagined it at all—but it certainly wasn't like a kiss in the movies. Almost on impulse, I swept my tongue against his upper lip. Sokka's eyes widened as he stared at me, shocked, and I shivered. What was going on? Something was wrong with me, I knew. Maybe I really _was_ losing grip.

There was a part of me, deep inside, that really didn't wanna end this. I immediately chastised it. Couldn't it see? I had to stop now, before I got deeper in. Before I fell in love with him, for real.

Pulling away, albeit with a pang of regret, I yelped, trying to sound indignant, "Okay! Question number 3! What the hell'd you do that for, ya pervert?!"

"Um! Accident!" Sokka whimpered back, pulling as far away from me as he could. "Toph, I it wasn't—! Not that I wouldn't want to—! But it wasn't like that—!"

"You _enjoyed_ it," I realized incredulously, heart still pounding. "You freaking _enjoyed_ it. You. Pervert."

My voice came out angrily, but deep inside, I was almost relieved. Ever since I'd been here, I dunno why, but something inside of me had feared that Sokka was lying.

"But it wasn't _like_ that, Toph," Sokka protested.

"Just—just take me home." I gave up on trying to argue with him. I was breaking down…I was losing control…I just wanted to go back to the beach house, and listen to a few songs without a care. "Just—please." I buried my head in his shoulder. "Please," I whispered, as my pride called out for help, because even if I _was_ breaking down, dammit, I shouldn't be going to Sokka for help.

I pulled away. "Kidding," I said immediately, noticing his surprised expression. "Now get moving!" I ordered, giving him a sharp kick with my one good leg.

"The Sokka Express is moving out of the station!" Sokka announced, like the goofball he was. "Let's go!" And with that, we chugged away.

I acted scornful of his childish behavior, as always. But deep inside, I was seriously worried. Upset.

Concerned.

Because it seemed that something was happening.

Something I couldn't control.

And I sure as hell didn't like it one tiny bit.

* * *

So. Yeah-ish.

I'd been kissed.

By a guy.

Name Sokka.

And although I should have felt completely violated and never wanted to speak to him again (even though it was a total mistake and not his fault, like, at all)—

Well.

I didn't.

Because—

I have a lot of secret pleasures.

And it seemed that kissing Sokka Kuruk was the newest addition to my list.

* * *

I don't want another heartbreak  
I don't need another turn to cry, no  
I don't want to learn the hard way  
Baby hello, oh no, goodbye  
But you got me like a rocket  
Shooting straight across the sky

* * *

Return to Top


	5. Chapter 4: Just Friends

"Are we friends?" Sokka asked, right outta the blue, as I sat there stuffing tortilla chips into my mouth and looking like a total pig. I gagged, and realized:

I was split, right down the middle.

Half of me wanted to kill him.

The other half just wanted to call into a corner and cringe the night away.

I settled with the same thing I pretty much always do: sarcasm.

"Oh, yeah," I said sarcastically, "You and me are _real_ good buddies."

Sokka beamed. "Really? Because you—" His face fell. "You and your _sarcasm_," he grumbled after a moment, obviously sulking.

But soon, to my dismay, Sokka had recovered. "No, _seriously_, Toph," he whined, looking at me imploringly. "_Are_ we friends?"

I glared, and gulped.

Because, well...

I wasn't gonna get away with not answering this, was I?

And somehow I had a feeling that I was gonna be the only one that _wasn't _just _loving_ the answer.

* * *

_Everyone knows it's meant to be  
Falling in love just you and me  
Till the end of time  
Till I'm on her mind  
It'll happen  
I've been making lots of plans  
Like a picket fence in a rose garden  
I'll just keep on dreaming  
But it's cool cause we're just friends_

—Just Friends, the Jonas Brothers

* * *

After the Incident of Doom, I practically refused to be carried home. But what could I say? "Oh, yeah, I'll call a taxi, for the sole block back to the beach house, and pay the driver with the money I don't have." Mm-hm. Totally.

Yeah.

_No_.

So, of course, I only had one choice: allow Sokka to tow me home. It hadn't ended up very well, to say the least—for some reason, the song Here In Your Arms kept coming back to me. Haunting me. I mean, _seriously_! How could I _not _think about it? It didn't help that I knew how Sokka felt about me, and the constantly increasing risk of those feelings being reciprocated. Well…that is, the risk that they might be _at_ a risk of reciprocated. Yeah. That was it.

But fortunately, I had found my ticket to freedom: my foot. Yes, it still hurt like hell. Yes, it was annoying.

But it was still an excuse—and hey, I was getting freaking _desperate_.

But. After a waved Sokka out of the house, and he left reluctantly (probably off to plan some elaborate scheme to get me out of the house), there was nothing to do.

So.

Well, first off, I gotta say: I was trying to avoid romance, period. Too...reminiscent. Ugh. As if I wanted _another_ reason to pull out my hair and/or jump off a clip.

But, anyway...

I...err...

Well, I was desperate, okay?! And it's not that bad a movie, anyway.

I hobbled over to the T.V., flipped through Sokka's collection of DVDs, and discovered _Spiderman _the movie, sitting right on top. So I thought, it's an action adventure, right? Good work, Toph. Very good work. You've found you're ticket right outta boredom.

But...well...I forgot about that _one_ seen. Okay, it had been a while, remember?! I hadn't watched it in, like, forever! So it was to by expected that I would kinda happen upon one of the _most romantic kisses in the book_.

The upside-down one.

Okay, yeah, maybe it's kinda unlikely, a bit improbable. But still. It's romantic. And, being the girl that I was (I can't help it!) a part of me wanted to oo and ah and squeal.

Another part of me wanted to cringe.

I mean, seriously! Who puts crappy stuff like that in there?! They were just..._waiting_ to come down and wreak havoc upon my life.

Yep. Fate and the DVD companies, collaborating on my soon-to-be-on-DVD! doomsday.

Right up there with Fate and my overprotective parents. (It was their fault, anyway. If they hadn't been so freakin' annoying, I wouldn't have had to get away from them so badly.)

But, anyway—

Back to the story.

More specifically, this one. As in, the movie. As in, the kiss.

As in, my torment.

Glaring, I threw a pillow at the TV screen. "Oh, yeah," I commented sarcastically, to no one in particular, as my pillow came bouncing back and hit my—oh, surprise!—in the foot (one word: _painful_). "This is _just_ what I need. Mm-hm. I was _totally_ looking forward to this, but—no. Just no, okay? Stop fucking with my life!" I demanded of a currently, hem, _occupied _Spiderman and Friends.

Because that's what they were doing.

Fucking with me.

Groaning, I hobbled across the room to flip off the TV, before falling back onto the couch. Reaching into the bag I'd stolen from the kitchen, I munched furiously on a handful of potato chips.

"Oh, yeah, Spidey," I grumbled at last. "That's you, saving the _world_ from _evil_." I glared at the DVD. You know, I was actually starting to agree with the asshole-ish news guy.

Spiderman _sucked_.

(And so did Sokka Kuruk, by the way. Just so you know.)

Speaking of Sokka...

I scowled.

As I said before, I'd been trying to, um, _forget_ about the...err...thing-where-our-lips-touched yesterday.

Aka, the Kiss. (Yes, I capitalized it. Yes, it was _that_ bad.)

But—

I dunno. It was _hard_, dudes. (I'm feeling surfer dude-ish to day.) For some reason, I was stuck on Sokka...

Stuck on _Sokka_...

_Stuck _on Sokka...

I wondered if this what was the apocalypse was like. Really, I wouldn't be surprised. Because...

I wasn't supposed to ever come within five feet of Sokka Kuruk, let alone _kiss_ him, accident or no. And seriously! What the hell was with the _enjoyment_?! That was messed up, that was what it was. Dumb teenage hormones...

I just needed to find a...make-out partner. Yeah. And make out with them.

_Totally_, I agreed. "That will _so_ work," I said aloud, and sighed.

I wasn't even convincing to _myself_!

'Cause...'cause kissing a random guy, even a hot one, didn't seem _appealing_, y'know? Which was kinda confusing.

'Cause if kissing _Sokka_ was appealing—well, kissing anyone should be!

As I'd stated so many times before, I was _losing_ it. _Losing_ it.

I let out a long, slow breath. I really, _really_wanted to go listen to emo music right now, but I had an idea.

A good idea.

A great idea.

An idea that just might save me from the depths of hell.

'Cause...what if I just tried to think of Sokka as a _friend_? Like, really? I mean, before he moved away, Aang Yangchen was one of _my _best friends, and thinking of him in _that way_ just seemed, well, _wrong_. And faintly disgusting, seeing as the kid was so pansy-ass I didn't doubt that I had more balls then him and that one gay guy at McDonald's put together.

So.

It didn't seem like a bad enough idea to discard, and, hey, I was running out of options anyway.

I stuffed another potato chip in my mouth, and smiled through the good, salty crunchiness.

Huh. This just might _work out_. What a concept!

...Although I definitely wasn't gonna let Sokka know about my new decision. He'd probably go and do something dumb, like climb bare-chested up Mount Everest with a megaphone and shout it out to the world.

...Okay, so Plan _B_it was: think of Sokka as a friend, but don't actually tell him about it.

I nodded in satisfaction. Plan B was go. (But I don't care _what_ you say—I was _still_gonna go to my room and listen to emo music all day.)

* * *

I listened to emo music.

I ate potato chips.

Between it all, I probably gained fifteen pounds.

But don't worry. There was still more to gain.

I don't know _why_Sokka listened to my and stayed away from the beach house that day, but it was sweet, sweet, freedom. When he finally came back, he was dripping wet—apparently, he'd been at the beach all day, getting splashed by evil five years olds with superiority complexes—and I shoved him in the shower immediately.

Not that I imagined what he looked like in there.

At all.

When he came back down, toweling off, I'd already grabbed the tortilla chips from the cabinet, along with the gross canned Taco-Bell cheese dip and surprisingly good salsa I found there. Plopping down in front of the TV beside me, Sokka frowned.

"Where's the meat?"

I shrugged. "Dunno."

"But you _have _to have meat!" Sokka looked scandalized. Jumping up, he ran to the fridge, and sprinted back with a pre-cooked package of ground beef and a spoon in hand.

And I don't think I need to say where it went from there.

"Oh, yeah, Snoozles," I grumbled. "'Cause that's just _so_ appetizing."

Sokka looked up through a mouthful of meat. "I 'ow i' is," he tried to say, but I put my foot down. Literally.

And nearly sprained it again in the process.

Clutching my abused and injured limb to my chest, I haughtily took another bite of my tortilla chip, heaped with salsa. "Hmph."

Sokka continued eating meat.

I continued ignoring him.

And then—

Well.

As always, _just_ when I was actually beginning to wonder if the situation was _tolerable_, good ol' Fate had to pop in and mess everything up.

Yeah, buddy. We just _love_ ya down here.

"Toph?" Sokka was finally ready for conversation, to my disappointment. He must have finished his meat.

"What?"

"Are we friends?" Sokka asked innocently, making the best "oh-I'm-so-sweet-and-cute-don't-kill-me." (Not that I thought he was cute. At all.)

Hem.

I gagged on a tortilla chip. Eyes watering, I groped around and took a swallow Coke. Swishing it around for as long as I could, at last, I was forced to swallow that fateful sip and...duh duh duh..._answer_.

But never fear. Sarcasm to the rescue!

"Oh, yeah," I rolled my eyes. "You and me are _real _good buddies."

I wanted to say no right away, and leave it at that.

...But if Sokka only thought

Sighing, I turned to him. "I guess..." I admitted grudgingly. "...But trust me, I only stick around so I can stop you from falling off a cliff or something dumb like that," I added quickly.

"You do care!" Sokka cried happily, wiping tears of joy from his eyes. Reaching forward with arms outstretched, he pucker up his lips and leaned in for the fabled 'kiss...'

...To which I pulled away, and glared. "We—are—_friends_," I emphasized heavily. "Not make-out partners. Not girlfriend and boyfriend. Not"—I shuddered at the thought—"_lovers_. _Friends_. As in F-R-I-E-N-D-S. Got it?"

"Wait!" Sokka furiously scribbled down my speech on a napkin, before tucking it away meticulously in his pocket. "Got it!" he announced.

"Question for today," I asked suddenly, struck by inspiration. "Why do you care?"

He eyed me apprehensively. "This'll sound really mushy, but it's because...well..." Sokka shrugged. "I care because I love you, and I want you to love me back."

"Yeah, but _why_?"I pressed. "_Why_ do you love me?"

"Is this one of those questions girls get when they're on their...what's-it-called...periods?" Sokka asked nervously, scooting away from me.

I rolled my eyes, and elbowed him in the ribcage. "No, doofus. I just wanna know, okay?"

And I did. I mean, come on! If a guy that you'd (previously) hated was in love with you, wouldn't you wanna know why, too?

"Well..." Sokka drew out the syllable, casting a nervous glance at me. "Because you're...pretty..." He winced, but I waved him onward.

"Go on."

"And you're...smart," he continued slowly, beginning to warm up to the idea. "And you're nicer then most girls. And...and...you're sarcastic—like me." Sokka couldn't resist sending me a charming grin. "All in all, you're one hell of a girl."

Huh.

Interesting.

And, surprisingly, not half bad. I'd expected it to be something dumb, like "you eat nachos," or better yet, nothing at all. But, surprisingly, I wasn't disappointed with his answer.

I was actually kinda...flattered.

Oh, _no_.

This could _not _get any worse. I was..._please_! With _Sokka_! I mean, _seriously_!

Yeah, I think I had a pretty good reason. So on the inside, I was freaking out.

But I couldn't let _him_ know that. So I snorted, and stuck _Batman Begins_ in the DVD player. (What _was_ it with me and superhero movies, anyway?)

It would have been a great movie.

If I hadn't been too distracted by Sokka's arm _nearly touching_ and _occasionally brushing _mine the entire time.

Which didn't help my current pleased-with-Sokka predicament.

At all.

Oh yeah, pestimism. Bring it on.

And also, we ran out of tortilla chips halfway through.

Boo.

The only good thing I can say is that...

Batman was hot. Yeah. So—

Hot Batman. Remember that. (And that I really, _really_ need to learn sword-fighting. It's just too kick-ass macho _not _to.)

And I even figured I could, you know, forget about the please part. Um, haven't you ever heard of _lying _to yourself?

Yeah.

It happens. (Trust me, I know. A little piece of information from "The Future": I used to do it all the time...)

* * *

As these things usually go, I didn't realize what a horrible thing I'd done until after the fact. I woke up in the middle of the night (or close enough), a feeling of dread growing in my stomach.

The clock read 11:59, and I couldn't believe how much _I'd_ fucked up my _own_ life. And not just me, apparently—someone else. Something I _couldn't _fix.

Who cared that I'd gone on my own little rant?

Since when did Sokka take anything I said about our relationship _seriously_?

He'd...he'd...

Oh.

No.

I clutched my blanket to my chest, and stared straight ahead in horror.

He'd _twist_ my _words_. He'd...He'd...

He'd think I was shy.

He'd think I was _in love with him_—as if he hadn't already fallen in love with _me_—and increase the effort—and—and—

It just might increase the risk of me falling _back_. (Ha. As if I _needed_ another one of those.)

Oh. My. God.

You know an earth shattering scream, one that preferably shatters the eardrums of all within a five mile radius?

Yeah.

Well, this would be a good time for one of _those_.

* * *

This is the part where I just say went really and sucky and wrong about that day, right? (Although you probably already know, or at least have a good enough guess. I'll tell you again anyway.)

Yeah. And then somehow worked out in the end (and I do mean the _end_ the end). Miraculously. (I like to complain about it anyway.)

So. See—

Friends.

You hear about them all the time. The cliche "in-love-with-their-best-friend."

The all too obvious "oh-we're-_just_-_friends_-do-you-mind-looking-away-while-we-make-out?"

And I was realizing that—big time.

Because if I'd told Sokka that we were, ugh, _friends_—he was gonna be getting _ideas_, alright? And these _ideas_—

They were gonna make him think that I was _interested in him and remotely possible of falling in love with him and us getting married and having twenty-seven kids or whatever goes on in his sick fantasies._

And I would tell him that we were friends, um, no way—

But it was kinda already too late.

...Us.

...Friends.

...

...

...Oops.

* * *

**Next chapter might be a little shorter then normal, but I'm planning on making that the norm. So, w****hat did you think of this chapter? I sure fucked up Toph's life XD (Yep, in this story, I am Fate. Oh, the irony XD)**

—**Lizzie**


	6. Chapter 5: Here In Your Arms

**Disclaimer:**I own neither Here (In Your Arms), by Hellogoodbye, Flying Without Wings, sung by Clay Aiken and owned by whoever, or ATLA. (Oh, come on. You'd know if I did. From all the Tokka, I mean XD)

* * *

"Okay, question number 5," I sighed, holding back a wide yawn, "What, exactly was this fearsome _nightmare_ of yours about?"

"It's nothing," Sokka insisted, rolling over in bed. "Just go back to bed, okay, Toph?"

"I am _not_ leaving," I explained in simpler terms then before, "_Until_ you tell me what, exactly, turned you into such a big wimp overnight."

Sokka glanced around nervously. "Okay, okay." He swallowed. "It's my old girlfried—Yue. She had to...err...she's not around anymore, and normally I'm...okay about it, I guess, but...I used to have these nightmares about her, kinda, and they've come back, but...something's changed." He hesitated, and I tried to hide the fact that I _really_ didn't like where this was going.

Jealous, me? Nah.

Okay, maybe.

"See, it's just that...you've...you've..." Sokka shrugged sheepishly, growing more comfortable with the idea. "You've kinda taken her place."

I stared at him.

Wow.

You know, that had been really unexpected.

I sighed.

I guess it was that time.

I, Toph Bei Fong, had no choice but to choice my annoying friend's nightmares the hell away.

...Man this was gonna suck.

* * *

_I like where you sleep,  
When you sleep, next to me.  
I like where you sleep... here_

_Cause our lips, can touch  
And our cheeks, can brush  
Our lips can touch here_

_Well you are the one the one that lies close to me  
Whisper's hello I miss you quite terribly  
I fell in love, in love with you suddenly  
Now there's no place else I could be but here in your arms_

—Here (In Your Arms), Hellogoodbye

* * *

The clock flipped to 12:00.

Unsurprisingly, it did nothing whatsoever to help my panicky self.

Maybe I was overreacting a bit, alright? But then again, so would Sokka. It was a miracle he hadn't said something about it already...

I tapped my fingers against the side of the bed, and grimaced. Man, I was _really_ sinking in deep. Never once had I thought that I'd _ever_spend half as much time with Sokka Kuruk, let alone have the reason to worry about it.

But I was. And I did.

See, here was the problem: there might be a slight, one in, okay, ten thousand chance that I was at a risk of falling for Sokka Kuruk. Well, I'd already admitted that the one-in-a-million chance I'd originally planned for wasn't gonna happen, so don't even _think_ about going any farther then that.

Or else. Else being the fact that I will find Chuck Norris, wherever he may be, and set him on you like a bloodhound with a black belt in every martial art your puny little head can think of.

Yeah. It's really some 'else,' isn't it?

Whatever.

Y'know how Fate and Verizon Wireless always seem to collaborate against you? Maybe not. But, as for me—

My cellphone rang. And, obviously, Fate had to have _some_ moron to help him with it.

'Some moron' referring to my best friend. Friend_s_.

Onji Wangfire and Jin Tessanami.

And sometimes Katara Kuruk. But that comes later, doesn't it?

I had no idea how I'd become friends with them, really. Onji was kinda quiet, and a major competitor in all the big dance competitions, while Jin was just...Jin. She was nice, sweet, believed fervently in all of that true love/destiny crap, and had a pretty mean temper when provoke. She also happened to have a crush on Zuko Roku, one of Sokka's kinda-friends and my own next-door neighbor. (Made for a lot of...err...interesting sleep overs. Not that we had spy cams in his shower or anything like that. Hn. Perverts.) Oh, and she drank a hell of a lot of tea. That, too.

Hem.

But, apparently, they'd decided to call me in a three-way phone share.

At 12:01 in the morning.

Go figure.

I knew who it was from the moment that obnoxious ring tone (_Girlfriend_, in _Japanese_, of all things) kicked in. Flicking open my cell phone, I interrupted Onji's shy "hello" and Jin's friendly "hey" with a sarcastic, "Oh, yeah, it's going _great_. It's not like I hate the guy or anything, oh no. You two were just _dead_ _on_."

"Wow, Toph, it's so awesome that you get to spend time with Sokka," Jin said instead, smile bleeding through the static. "I can't wait to hear the juicy details."

"You too will have a lot of fun, I can tell," Onji assured me. "Like me and Heidi, you know?"

Did I mention that they were totally and completely convinced that Sokka and I were, hem, meant to be and written across the stars in an overwhelming example of the Power of Love?

Yeah.

That.

"You two are insane," I grouched. "I do _not_like Sokka Kuruk." Of _course_ that only increased their conviction.

"Invite me to the wedding," Jin offered. "I'm sure Zuko's Uncle can provide the tea."

"I'll dance! It'll be fun," Onji smiled. They were just two big softie marshmallows, weren't they?

"As long as there's _Sex on the Beach_," I offered up after a moment's pause. "And an open bar. That, too." Jin and Onji laughed.

"We knew you'd fall for him."

"Oh, yeah, we're just _this tight_." I rolled my eyes. "Just shut up, will ya?"

"Okay, okay," Jin giggled, as Onji started in, "Toph, we wanted to tell you—"

My ears perked up as a distinct groaning floated over from the direction of Sokka's room. "Wait," I broke in. The groaning stopped, and I continued listening with suspicion. "Okay, go on."

"We just wanted to say how proud we are that you and Sokka have finally found each other." I could _hear _Onji's cackling, deep, deep down inside of her. I'd always known that she was positively _evil_ beneath that nice exterior. "You have no idea how obvious it is that you too are in love with each other."

I felt like gagging. All my worst fears, ganging up on my at once. Shameful, that's what it was. But never fear: it was not to last. It was to give way to something much, much worse.

AKA Sokka. As always.

The moaning had stopped a few moments before, but I was still keeping an ear open for any other signs of noise—anything to get out of this conversation with Onji and Jin. Hey, they were fun during the school day (we had different lunch periods, so fortunately they hadn't experience Sokka's big question) but right now, having too awesome best friends simply sucked.

To the point: I was listening, and I heard it. The muttering. And the mumbling.

And then when Sokka started calling out for, whaddya know, _me_.

I was midly interested. Intrigued, in fact. "Hey, Onji, Jin, I gotta go," I muttered absently, already heading towards Sokka's room. He hadn't stopped calling out for me yet, and I wanted to get there in time to see what was really going on with this whole thing. "Just—err, I'll call you back. Sometime."

"But you—" Jin began. I flipped the phone shut and cut her off. They'd forgive me—they always did. But right now, I had more important things to attend to. _Tiptoeing_ into Sokka's room, I towered over the sleeping wonder himself.

"Toph," he called softly, shifting restlessly in his sleep as I peered down on him. "Toph!" Sokka cried, sitting up straight in bed as his eyes flew open wide.

I jerked backwards by reflex. "Hey," I said irritably, as Sokka rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "Leave the drama till I'm in my coffin, will ya?"

"Toph?" he asked, confused.

"What do I look like, the tooth fairy?" I crossed my arms. "Spill. Why were you calling out for me? 'Cause I don't _do_ needy relationships, 'kay?" I immediately felt foolish: _what_ relationship? There I was again, giving Sokka ideas...

"Nightmares," Sokka answered after a long moment. "It's nothing," he added hurriedly, as I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Don't worry about it—I'm fine." But I could see that he wasn't. Sokka kept glancing at me, as if to check that I was still safe...and I knew that something had to be done.

I glanced at the clock, to make sure my question was valid. It was. "Okay, question number 5," I sighed, holding back a wide yawn, "What, exactly was this fearsome _nightmare_ of yours about?"

"It's nothing," Sokka insisted, rolling over in bed. "Just go back to bed, okay, Toph?"

"I am _not_ leaving," I explained with an exasperated sigh, "_Until_ you tell me what, exactly, turned you into such a big wimp overnight."

Sokka glanced around nervously, as if we w_eren't_ the only two people in the room. "Okay, okay." He swallowed. "It's my old girlfried—Yue. She had to...err...she's not around anymore, and normally I'm...okay about it, I guess, but...I used to have these nightmares about her, kinda, and they've come back, but...something's changed." He hesitated, and I tried to hide the fact that I _really_ didn't like where this was going.

Jealous, me? Nah.

Okay, maybe.

"See, it's just that...you've...you've..." Sokka shrugged sheepishly, growing more comfortable with the idea. "You've kinda taken her place."

I stared at him.

Wow.

You know, that had been really unexpected.

I sighed.

I guess it was that time.

I, Toph Bei Fong, had no choice but to choice my annoying friend's nightmares the hell away.

...Man this was gonna suck.

I briefly considered talking it out, but decided I didn't _want_ to hear about it—or be entertained with a detailed recount of my own death. Let me tell you, not the most pleasent thing to do at 12:15 in the morning, while simaltaneously trying to un-scare incredibly annoying teenage boys with abandonment issues.

The idea hit me like a smack in the face. But there was only one way to do this, if I didn't want it getting gory...and I didn't want it getting gory.

I didn't say a thing, simply crawled in bed next to Sokka as he stared at me, wide eyed.

After a moment, a bit of his old confidence seemed to come rushing back. "I knew you'd come around!" he grinned, leaning forward with his lips puckered up for the big one. I shoved him away, and glared.

"No. Just imagine that there's a big sign on my, okay? 'For Nightmare Inhibitting Purposes Only.' Get it got it _good_." I held his gaze fiercly, to make sure he got the message. "Okay?"

"Okay," Sokka agreed wistfully, before asking hopefully, "You sure I can't even—"

"No." I put my foot down. "As if I'm gonna go around helping you indulge in your sick fantasies."

Sokka seemed to get the picture. He scooted over in the double bed to make room for me as I wiggled my way in. At last, I was situated, in much to close a position for my comfort, and the prime situation for Sokka's enjoyment.

I tried to ignore it. But one question snagged at my mind, and wouldn't let me go. "Snoozles?" I asked suddenly. "Why were you moaning earlier? Or is that just another one of your creepy functions?"

I could nearly hear him blush. "Not all the dreams are...bad dreams. And they change directions...err...fast."

"Oh." I felt my own cheeks heat up as I was struck with sudden realization. "Just don't get too into those..._good_ dreams of yours, Snoozles," I muttered, rolling over to face the wall.

"I'll be working on that." Sokka couldn't help but snuggle up close to me, wrap his arms around my torso, and whisper into my ear, "I love you."

I froze up. But everything about it—the sincerity in his voice, the way his lips brushed against my fragile shell of an ear without hesitation, screamed of the truth. And love.

So, true love.

I didn't even wanna _think_ about that, for two reasons. Number one, I didn't believe in true love, and number two, even if I didn't hold any faith in such a dumb concept, my brain _still_ shouldn't have been allowed to use it in a context with _Sokka_, of all people.

I was tempted to go back to my room, crawl back into my own bed. I had nothing to say in reply, after all; perhaps that would turn him off, and I could go freely. But I knew that all night, I'd be missing his warmth, his comforting prescence beside me, and above all the warm atomosphere of love and acceptance in the air.

I was fluff-ifying this, and I was making this whole beach house seem like one huge soap opera. But Sokka loved me, and I wasn't so cruel that I was going to take away his one chance to spend the night with me, reciprocated feelings or not. I wasn't heartless, but I still wasn't gonna shove it right into his arms...

I'd found my middle ground. Keep Sokka happy with retard stuff like this, and no loving—on my part, at least—would be needed.

Or so I hoped.

But right now, it was my best chance...and it all had to start right here, right now, without any regrets.

And so, that night, for the very first time, I fell alseep in Sokka Kuruk's arms.

* * *

I was disturbed from a little something called _restful sleep for, like, the first time in forever _(huh, how ironic—and with Sokka, too) by the weirdest dream I ever had. Funny—Jin and Onji weren't they _only_ ones preaching to me about you-know-who that night.

Back to my dream.

See, it was about a monkey.

And Destiny. That, too.

If you've ever seen _The Lion King_, you'll probably know where I'm going with this.

Anyway, I "woke" to my dream with an air of apprehension about me, and was surprised to find myself in, you guessed it, the African savahnah. Monkey Face didn't waste a moment in popping into say hi.

"Hello," he greeted, swinging down from the treetop. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we have business to attend to."

"Oh, so you talk _and_ you're a poet." I raised my eyebrow, and sighed. "Wonder what I ate _this_ time. Whatever, Monkey—just get down to it."

"I have," he said pleasantly, "some advice for you."

"Oh, yeah. People are just _crazy_ about taking advice from talking, poetry-loving, over-analytic primates," I pointed out dryly.

The monkey shrugged with a crooked smile. "You'd be surprised."

I stared at him. "Okay, now tell me, do you just pop in on us confused teenage girls every so often, or is there actually a _reason_for this seriously wacked-out dream?"

Monkey-Face chuckled. "Yes, there is. I'm afraid—"

"You should be—"

"That you, Toph Bei Fong—"

"Hell yeah I am—"

"Have been sincerely interfering with the course of Destiny," the monkey finished. You could just tell by the way he said it—_Destiny_—that it was something pretty damn unfortunate, and that he'd start acting like a total man-bitch if it wasn't capitalized.

I simply blinked, before a wide grin spread across my face. "Hell yeah I have! Destiny _sucks_!"

The monkey grunted in response. "Maybe so, but this is a special case. You are interfering with matters of the _heart_," he uttered solemnly, as I felt the first spark of anger plant itself inside of me.

"So I'm supposed to just change my mind about Sokka and fall in love with him, all 'cause you said so?" I demanded, eyes narrowing. "What makes you think I'll listen to you? It's _my_ choice, it's _my _heart, and if I don't wanna fall in love with the king dumbass himself—well, that's _my_ problem, okay? So butt the hell out and leave me alone!" I finished angrily, furious at myself for coming up with such a lame, frustrating dream, and for the insecurity that lurked deep with in. If it _was_ Destiny...but no. Just no. I _wasn't_ gonna fall in love with Sokka, no matter what Monkey Face said.

A small voice inside of me pointed out the, um, yeah, the whole choosing not to fall in love with Sokka thing? It might be a little late for that. I shoved it back where it came from and summoned all the certainty and determination I'd ever held within me.

For the moment, it worked.

As for later on? I'm not so sure. You'll have to wait and see.

Moving on.

Monkey Face sighed. "Fine, then. If you wish, then you will be left alone to decide for yourself..."

"I will!" I replied hotly. The monkey rolled his eyes, as my dream began to fade.

"Child," he said, as if humoring me a great deal, "There is no fighting Destiny."

I would have called back, but the dark and heavy blanket of sleep had already settled over me, wrapping itself around my every curve and whispering into my ear of things to come. It wasn't hard to give into it, wasn't hard to get that warm, content feeling in my stomach, and I tried to pretend that it wasn't because I could distinctly feel, even in my dream, Sokka's arms around my and his soft breath against my neck. But right now, it didn't matter, and I honestly, I could hardly hold myself to the point of caring.

So I drifted off into this new, deep sort of sleep, and got my wish:

I didn't remember any of it in the morning.

And, looking back on it, that might have been where things first began to go wrong.

'Cause even if I didn't remember it—well, truth is, you _can't_ fight Destiny, especially when its hell bent on its version of the course of, ahem, _true love_.

Which translated to the fact that for once, Monkey Face was _right_.

Heh. Who knew?

* * *

I had nothing to worry about the rest of the night. No more monkey dreams...or memories of them to keep me awake. I had gotten one warning to stop messing with Destiny...or they'd just set it all up for me.

Unfortunately, I hadn't listened. And now it was too late.

But when I blinked my eyes open the next morning, none of this was on my mind—well, freaking _duh. _At first, I couldn't believe where I was. I mean, seriously! In bed with _Sokka_?! What the hell was I supposed to think?

But after I'd realized that, oops, I'd crawled into bed with him because he'd had a freaking _nightmare_, and that, yeah, that was _his_ arm around my waist, I was actually kinda...well...

Calm.

I watched him, and then sun was just coming up and falling across his face. It reminded me of a song I'd heard once, I dunno how long ago—_It's waking up beside you, to watch the sunrise on your face..._

But a split second later, I realized in what a bad situation I was in. How could I possibly condone this?! It was crazy—I was crawling in bed with Sokka at night, and applying our relationship to romantic songs, and, and...

And that's when I realized what I should of the second I met Sokka Kuruk:

I had a habit. A habit of falling in love with those that would hurt me, or cheat on me, or just—_ruin_ me, I dunno.

And Sokka?

Okay, maybe I wasn't falling in love with him, maybe there wasn't even a chance of it. But the point was—

This might be love, and love consists of two things (or at least the cynical part of me insisted): Hearts, and breaking them.

I was a girl, and girl's hand their hearts right over.

He was a boy, and boy's break them.

And right now? Two reasons, one of which I'm sure you can already guess:

1. I hated Sokka Kuruk, as of five days ago. And probably would regain said hate. Soon. Ish.

2. I was not eager to hand over my heart to him. At all. And if I did? Well—in order to trust him with something so precious, something so damn _breakable_(how 'bout that, I'm the most kickass thing since Chuck Norris, but my heart's a total wimp) it would require—yeah, you guessed it:

_Trust_.

As long as we kept away from that, I knew: there wasn't a chance in the world.

(Now if only I could see about getting some "Heartbreak Insurance...")

* * *

I was starting to think that it might be a pretty good idea. The Heartbreak Insurance, I mean.

'Cause if I _did_ hand my heart right over to him on a silver platter—which was, duh, _not_ going to happen—then I had to be prepared for the worst.

For heartbreak.

For breakup songs and super-salty potato chips and cherry Popsicles and crying silently in my family's backyard hammock and a supply of surplus Kleenex.

Trust me. It happened before.

But, see—

I was Toph.

And Toph Bei Fong _didn't_ fall in love, or hand her heart over to _anyone_. Or trust people that would just end up hurting me in the end.

Or, okay, maybe I did.

But I had already met _one_ exception to that rule.

And if there was gonna be another, well, I would do everything in my power to make sure that his name _wasn't _Sokka Kuruk.

* * *

**PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. I DIDN'T TRY TO MAKE HIM TOO OOC FLUFFY I SWEAR. But srsly, I'm a sucker for Tokka luff, and even _I_ try to have my fun once in a while XD Even if it is horribly and blantantly out of character, lol. (And if you happen to spot any OOCness, and you have an idea of how to fix it...please tell me. Really, I need the advice :) )**

**Um. Yeah. It's been a while, hasn't it? ****I had stuff to do, in preparation for the end of the year tests, though. And random oneshots to write. Which was basically a bunch of ideas swamping me at once, and me giving into them, so...I'm sorry. I shoulda focused some of that energy on I'd Lie :( I hoped you enjoyed all the oneshots, though!**

**And tell me, please, if you have any personal opinions on who Toph's past love should be! I am eternally clueless on these sorts of things ;D I'm just trying to figure out who would be a good match for her but still lousy enough to cheat, lol.**

**—Lizzie**


	7. Chapter 6: Hot

**Disclaimer:**Alas, I own not Avatar: the Last Airbender, the awesome T-Shirt slogan TotalTVAddict let me use, nor Avril Lavigne. (Mourn with me.)

**To All Readers:** I have no idea what the hell I'm doing with Toph's colorblindess, so if I made a mistake with the genetics and all that, please, forgive me. I have a lot of different people, all telling me a hell of a lot of different things.

* * *

"That bikini looks becoming on you," Sokka said, flatly, yet somehow managing to seem thoroughly uncertain at the same time. Chong, obviously, was nearly pissing himself with the anticipation of my reaction.

I snorted. "Yeah, great pickup line, _sure_—"

Sokka interrupted me to finish his approach. The Love Guru looked on eagerly. "If were on you, I'd be coming….too?" A light blush tinted his cheeks, and I stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Oh yeah.

Had Sokka just said that?

Yes he had.

And was I blushing as red as a tomato. Not to mention that…err…well, okay, maybe it affected me in more ways then one. Just shut up.

So let me get this straight. Sokka Kuruk's lame-o pick-up line was making me…_hot_.

Well, gee, Fate.

Thanks for the freaking _favor_.

* * *

_You make me so hot  
Make me wanna drop  
It's so ridiculous  
I can barely stop  
I can hardly breathe  
You make me wanna scream  
You're so fabulous  
You're so good to me baby, baby  
You're so good to me baby, baby_

—Hot, Avril Lavigne

* * *

Quick fast fact: 1 in 12 Crayons is gay. It's usually the pink one.

I mean, I just thought you should know. Since it was on my T-Shirt that day and everything.

Odds are, you're kinda freaked. You think I'm jumping into it this time and it's wrecking my karma and flow and all that spiritual crap.

Odds are, I agree with you.

Let's try this again, shall we?

So. I was in bed with Sokka, right?

And I'd just kinda realized that...you know. That I was kindasortamaybe...err...

...falling for him.

But wait, no. That was _not_ happening. I just happened to see...similarities. Like what happened with the ugly-retard-loser-who's-name-I-will-never-say-again-because-it-still-sends-butterflies-through-my-stomach( although he totally broke my heart, 'cause I was utterly and completely in love with him—which, by the way, was a _huge_mistake—and so maybe it might be why I don't wanna fall for Sokka 'cause I'm kinda afraid of loving him like I know I might and can we just stop talking about this now?!).

Moving on.

Can I just skip the part where I angst in my room over past loves, life's suckiness, etc., and skip to the _good_ part? (For you, at least. Let's face it—we all know how all of you _wonderful _people just _love_ reading about my misfortune.)

Anyway, as soon as I realized what incredible mistakes I was making, and that, hey, that trust thing was kinda old news since I'd _already_ trusted him not to rape me in bed (trust _me_, it had taken some effort). Which meant that the only thing left to do was _exactly_ what I'd started with: resist, resist, resist. I _couldn't_fall for Sokka, and that was final.

I mean, I didn't _want_ to fall for him! (Which was actually kinda weird, seeing as if I didn't _want_ to, at least _somewhere_, there really wouldn't be a _reason_ for it...)

I rolled out of bed and sprinted into my bedroom, shivering—sharing body heat is actually an effective way of keeping nice and cozy under covers, oddly enough, and dammit, it was _freezing_ in my own neglected bed.

Something _had_ to be done.

Something meaning dragging Sokka out of bed at ten, after I angsted excessively, and was able to nab three more hours of precious, dreamless sleep, so we could head over to this freakish board-walk carnival thing and for once have something to freaking _do._

Yeah. I weird myself out sometimes, too.

We walked into the carnival side by side, both fully aware of the implications. I made sure to send him a scowl every so often, so nobody started thinking that we were, you know, _together_.

"So," I asked, _bored _cuz I mean why the hell _else _would I be interested in Sokka?, "you been here before?"

"Our family used to go here every year." Sokka answered easily at first, smiling, "Like three years ago, when my dad took us. But that was before the—" He cut himself off.

It was a little early for the next question, but I could see no other way. "Question number six...before _what_?" I prodded curiously. Sokka, freezing up? I'd seen it before, but from the way he'd tensed, poised as if for attack...something was up.

"Before our family got fucked up," he said at last, looking away. I raised an eyebrow, and Sokka gave a little shrug, as if to say, 'Hey, it happens.' "Or maybe I'm thinking about the fact that I haven't seen a family barbecue in four years. Take away meat, and sarcasm is all I have left," he said wistfully, gazing off into the distance. With a jolt, Sokka seemed to snap back to the present. "So, yeah. Like I said, my family's fucked up good."

"Welcome to the club," I said dryly, and gave him a pat on the back. "Half the time, my parents don't know I exist. The other half, they're trying to make up for everything they _don't_ do be acting like control-freak monsters and attempting to rule over every freakin' aspect of my life."

"At least you have parents around," Sokka pointed out wryly. "You're lucky, Toph." He hesitated, and came to a halt. I stopped with him, as he continued softly, but sincerely, "I've never told anyone this before, but I can't remember my mother's face. When she died, my sister, Katara, was so brave and mature...she took care of our family, and held us all together. Whenever I try to think about my mom…hers is the only face I can see."

"Ah. I see." Shifting uncomfortably, I muttered, so quickly that even _I _couldn't understand what the hell I was saying, "IFLSDFERYONDYERFKDPFMLY."

"What? A monkey took your fruit smoothie?" Sokka proposed, obviously deeming my own communication skills inept.

"No!" I took a deep breath. "I said...I said Ifeelsadforyouandyourfuckedupfamily."

"Huh? Wait...are you trying to say that you _love _me?" Sokka asked excitedly.

I choked on air. "Um, _no_! I said..." I hesitated, and sighed. There was no point in keeping it from him. Why was I freaking over this, anyway!?

"I said that I felt sad for you and your fucked up family," I grumbled, forcing myself to slow down. "Gotta problem with that? I mean, it's not like I _care_ about you _personally_—but, you know. Having a fucked up family—'s no fun. 'S no fun at all."

"Yeah," Sokka agreed slowly, scrutinizing my carefully. "It isn't. Thanks, Toph. That...that means a lot."

Quickly, we avoided each others gazes like ostriches sticking our heads in the sand. I guess neither of us liked to talk much about feelings and all the crap...but, hey, maybe that was why we'd both gotten to addicted to sarcasm. It was just _too_ easy to avoid all the serious questions!

There was all sorts of weird stuff around the carnival. I'd decided to save all the good stuff for tomorrow—it was a two day carnival, after all—and wander around all the freak shows for today. The freakiest by far was a _kissing contest_, judged on the _passion of the kiss_. I'd never heard of that before, but seriously! It was embarrassing what people would do today, just for a little attention.

"A kissing contest!" Sokka brightened. "So, baby..." He laced his arm around me, and I glared. I'd forgotten earlier, discussing his family—this was _Sokka_, and however normal he could seem, I _always_ had to be on guard for his lopsided seduction attempts. "I don't suppose you'd like to join me in a quest to kick all of their asses?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." I hesitated.

"Really?" There, it was showing through was more—Sokka's confident act, overshadowed by the hue of his inner self-doubt.

"No," I snorted, and shoved him away so hard he nearly toppled to the ground. "Dumbass." Glancing around as Sokka recuperated, I searched for something, _anything _to do. "Hey!" I blinked, gaze drawn to a stand directly ahead. _Chong the Love Nomad_, the sign read. _Join us on a quest of LOVE!_

"Hi," I greeted, as Sokka lurked in the shadows. Apparently, he'd had some bad-hippy experiences prior to this one. (I mean, seriously—what _else _could the guy be?)

The Love Guru cracked a wide smile. "Hey, whoa, people! Moku, now I get to help them find their way on the quest of _love_! So, whaddya need?" He leaned forward, grinning wildly. "I'm Chong, by the way…and I'm a _love nomad_!" Chong gave us a thumbs up, as Sokka smacked himself in the forehead and I cackled silently.

This was _priceless_.

Smirking, I spoke up. "You know, Snoozles," I addressed Sokka, "I'm doin' you a favor. All you're so-called sweet talking sucks, so...I think he was looking for some, ahem, _pickup lines_," I spoke directly to Chong, cackling within.

Chong nodded wisely, and beckoned Sokka closer. Excruciatingly pained, Sokka allowed the Love Guru himself to whisper a few words of wisdom in his ear.

Turning to me, Sokka scratched his head and announced uncertainly, obviously confused, "That bikini looks becoming on you."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, great pickup line, _sure_—""

But Sokka wasn't finished yet. "If I were on you, I'd be coming...too?" he finished uncertainly, a light flush tinting his cheeks as the 'what did I just tell her?' reflex kicked in.

I stared. Um. Yeah.

Fascinating.

'Cause not only was I blushing up a storm, but—well, yeah.

Every dirty thought I'd ever had was running through my mind simultaneously. And applying to Sokka. Which was sick. And wrong. And disgusting. If faintly...arousing. 'Cause even though, y'know, sex it hot and everything—

I didn't want it _now_. Or with Sokka, actually.

And you know what? I was fed up with this. All of it. So I was gonna _prove _that Sokka Kuruk made me nothing but ice cold. And that kissing contest I'd seen in the beginning—

Yep, you guessed it.

"Hey," Chong stage-whispered, elbowing Sokka in the ribs, "Dude, I think she digs you!"

With a disgusting glance at the Love Guru, I simply ordered, "Come on, Snoozles. We have a kissing contest to join."

Sokka seemed to be struggling with something. "You mean that—you're saying—it _worked_?" he asked disjointedly, running to catch up with my quickly paced steps.

"Yeah, suddenly I'm just crazy about you, and we need to fix that," I said casually, not really thinking about what I was saying. A cold trickle ran down my spine as I realized that I hadn't meant it in a sarcastic way at all.

Sokka grinned. "I _knew _all that extra weight lifting would work!"

"Doofus." It was an effort to keep my voice blunt, sardonic, scornful. "I was _kidding_."

"...Oh." He sounded a bit disappointed, and I made a note to bring up his gullibility later on, when I had time.

"Excuse me! We'd like to join!" I called loudly, without a care for the other contestants disgusted expressions—vacationing lovebirds, most of them, judging from their half-vacant expressions, as if they'd just been brought back from a deep and meaningful journey into each others eyes.

The ringleader glared, but beckoned us into the ranks. "Fine." Clearing his throat, he turned to adress the crowd. "Okay! On your mark..." Everyone laced hands, and, scowling, I enveloped Sokka's in a bone-crushing grip. "Get ready..." Noses were touching and giggles were exchanged. With a loud sigh, I complied. "Get set..." Lips puckered, tongues swept around the corners of mouths. I gulped. This was for real, wasn't it?

This was just sick, and wrong, and flat-out _unusual_. Who freaking _cares_ about passion, or _wants _to watch other people make out? Um, losers, that's who. It was almost like there was some sort of crazed, obsessive fangirl out there, bent on Sokka and I falling for each other, and constantly creating unlikely ways for us to come together in an endless bond of _lurve_.

(I mean.

You could totally see the social lacking freak of nature sitting at her computer, typing and...conspiring. With Satan. Yeah, Satan. That sounds right, doesn't it?)

"_Go_!"

I had no choice.

There was just no other way.

And so what if I was in front of hundreds of other people? So freaking _what_? It didn't matter. I just had to pretend that Sokka was just some guy. Yeah. Just some guy. That would work fine, wouldn't it?

So, without adue, I leaned forward and planted my lips on his.

It was like jumping head first into an icy pool: after the initial shock of the water, it gets better.

And better.

And better.

And finally, I blew.

It was too much.

I lost control.

It was crazy, but…

One second, I was kissing him, fine. No biggie. But the next—

Something snapped. My fingers were entangled in his hair, and I was going at it as I never had before. Fireworks exploded inside my head, and I was so caught up that I neglected the chance to notice that my plan was failing…spectacularly.

Sokka returned my kiss in full, happy for his chance to finally express all his pent up emotions. I won't go into it, but let's just say that neither of us lacked the skills to properly apply one big wet one.

But pretty soon, it was over. Okay...Time's up, and the judging is already unanimous!" Thirty seconds later, to be exact. At first, I was disappointed…but then I came back to my senses.

What had I gotten myself into?

Pulling away, I panted heavily, staring deeply into Sokka's eyes. Some might have called it romantic.

But for me, it was just…ugh. One huge failure.

"And the winners are...this lovely couple right here!" the announcer grinned, as the crowd cheered. Sokka took a bow, gently pulling me down with him, as my head spun with realization.

I'd lost it, and that was something I just couldn't ignore.

I contemplated suicide, but thought better of it.

"..._Shit."_

Wait a second. Was I gonna quit, just 'cause of this?

No.

Just no.

Did Fate think I was _giving up_ after this? That I was just gonna let him pull my strings until I fell for Sokka once and for all?

Well, I wasn't.

Who _cared_ if it was just this one time? I hadn't kissed anyone in a while. This whole thing was just the physical sexual frustration I'd garnered over the past year, building up and pouring out all at once. Perfectly normal. Perfectly ordinary.

And if it wasn't, well, honestly, at this point it didn't really matter.

The point is, I wasn't throwing in the towel. I was gonna show them that we _weren't_ meant to be, and I was gonna do it be tempting Fate as much as I could. Ever. Single. Freaking. Day.

I'd find a way. And I'd win. And even if I didn't...it wouldn't matter.

I'd _always_ keep coming back for more.

"Ya here, that Fate?" I whispered, eyes gleaming. "You think it's over? Well, you're wrong. 'Cause in truth..."

I smirked.

"...the game has just begun."

* * *

Okay, um, yeah.

Sucky plan, anyone?

You know how I can be kinda sorta blinded by my pigheadedness/badass awesomeness at times?

So I think, looking back, that this was probably one of those times.

Of course, I couldn't acknowledge it back then. No way. As if.

But—

Denail doesn't change suckiness. Nope. Not at all. (Which I mightta figured out, if I'd thought a little harder.)

'Cause you see, there's gonna be a few times in your life when you're gonna find yourself in a lush, blooming Garden of Eden.

And odds are, after they break you down a little...that fruit is just gonna be too scrumptious and juicy to resist.

That time was coming. Hell, that time was _now_. Even if I wouldn't admit it just yet.

I'll say it again:

A sucky plan.

No, really.

You think?

* * *

**A/N: **Didja catch the self-reference? T'was fun to write XD Probably not my best chapter, but...work with me. It'll get better :D

Since I'm /always/ looking to the future, just hop on over to vote on my new-and-improved list of 'possible stories,' and which you want me to post after a finish this old fic ;D Hopefully by summer's end, lol.

**Edit: **Changed the chapter back to it's original form. I just can't decide, can I? Lol. But, anyway...I liked the original version better, in the end, so I hope you guys are okay with the change! Besides, this will DEFINETELY heat things up a bit :D


	8. Chapter 7: You Had Me At Hello

**Disclaimer:**ATLA belongs to Nickelodeon, the selfish bitch, and_ You Had Me At Hello_ belongs to A Day to Remember. (…AND OKAY MAYBE I PUT IN A FEW MORE LINES THEN I NEEDED TO. RESPECT THE SONG. _**RESPECT IT**_.)

* * *

"Snoozles—I need a distraction. So either jump outta the car, or…" I winced, and glanced out the window at the tiny, ant-carnival below.

There was just no other way.

So, with a very pissed-of heart, I continued, "It's time to…talk about yourself. Or, wait, me. So talk about yourself, but me at the same time."

"Huh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you _want_ to know about me?"

"No!" I ground my teeth. "Just—okay, question number seven. How, when, and where, exactly, did you fall in love with me?"

Hey, I wanted to know. It wasn't like I _cared_ if he'd just…picked me out at random or something. At all. Or anything. I was just...curious.

Just shut up, alright?

I need freaking _reassurance_.

(Yeah. Reassurance. _Right_.)

* * *

_You gave me butterflies (you are so cute) at the mailbox  
You gave me butterflies (you are so cute) at the mailbox  
You gave me butterflies (you are so cute) at the mailbox  
You gave me butterflies (you are so cute)_

_You had me at hello._

_What have I gotten into this time around  
I know that I had sworn I'd never trust anyone again but I didn't have to_

_You had me at hello  
You had me at hello  
You had me at hello_

_—_You Had Me At Hello, A Day to Remember

* * *

So.

Yeah.

Where did I leave off again?

Oh, yeah. The suckiest plan in the universe, rival only to the "OMG-ITACHI-ISN'T-BAD-HE'S-GOOOD" card in the Naruto manga. (Trust me, he was _much_ sexier when he was evil.)

Yep.

That one.

Hem.

So, err, right. Do I really _need _to explain?

I wasn't giving up on it. Obviously.

But, seriously_—_

I'd figured that the plan could, you know, wait for a day or so. Hey, as long as I risked _something_, it didn't really matter, did it?

The small things couldn't change anything. No way. It wasn't like feelings could be changed over a fifteen-loop roller coaster and a few mismatched words. (Or a ridiculously tall Ferris wheel and a longer history than I'd ever suspected. But I'll get to that later.)

Um_—_

Well.

We both know what happens next, don't we?

Bring on the lovin'.

* * *

The sun beat down hard on the carnival path as I walked side by side with Sokka.

Not in a romantic way, of course. To me, that is. I mean, Sokka was probably trying to pretend, within the reaches of his own sick mind, that we were like, engaged. Or something. Or, I dunno, looking for a park bench where we could lie down and shag each other.

We'd been running around the carnival all day, riding rides and whatnot. My favorite of the afternoon had been the Python. Oh, man, did Sokka scream...a sweeter sound I had never known.

Oddly enough, the kissing contest had layed dormant in the back of his mind for the entirety of our shared prescence. I'd wondered if it was the way I'd acted following the 'big event'_—_there'd been no freaking or freezing up (except for, okay, a _few_moments at the beginning), just a nonchalant denail of _any_ excess emotions.

Or maybe Sokka was just growing _sensitive_.

I toyed with the idea, then tossed it down the drain. Sokka? Sensitive?

Not once in a million years.

Fighting back a yawn, I dropped my musings and glanced around. We'd entered what I'd long dubbed the 'wimp' section of the carnival_—_it was bigger than you'd expect, I suppose, but then again, it was a few miles out and closer to another, bigger city than to Sokka's small town. A Ferris wheel towering over head (I was pretty sure that, at least, was a year round thing), a not-so-haunted house had been tossed helter-skelter in the center, and the notorious Egg Scrambler crouched a mere hundred yards away.

"So, Snoozles," I asked him boredly—I'd tried dumbass in the wee hours, but had gotten more than my share of strange looks and thus abandoned the attempt, "What d'you wanna do next?"

Sokka's gazed followed the path mine had taken only moments previously, from the Ferris wheel, to the haunted house, to the Scrambler. "Which one's scariest?" he mused. "I want you to be able to hold onto me for comfort. I mean, who else would protect you?" His chest puffed out in pride, I decided to play with him.

I wanted a rest, after all...and who cared if in some ways, I wasn't really lying at all? Fear of heights? Meh. So—err, three weeks ago... "The Ferris wheel," I answered, with just the proper amount of hesiation—or had I planned for that, after all? "Yeah. The Ferris wheel, definitely," I reassured both myself and Sokka, despite the twinge of unease in my stomach.

"Whoo-hoo! Finally!" Sokka grinned, before clearing his throat and saying seriously, "I mean, it's very scary, Toph. Very scary indeed."

I considered slapping him, but decided, in the end, that the guy really didn't mean any harm. Or so I hoped.

'Cause if he did...I'd have to unleash a major can of ass-whup.

And that just might be...y'know. Kinda hard to do. 'Cause, I mean, I wasn't _scared_ or anything.

I was just...worried about the state of the ride. When was the last time the thing had been inspected, anyway?

As we stepped into the line, relatively short for all the others we'd stood in, I shifted nervously. Sokka took notice of my awkward bouncy, and offered, "Hey, if you wanna piss, just run to the bathroom."

"No," I shook my head, and glared at the line as it moved _much much faster than it freaking should've_. "We're about to get on, anyway."

And we were. In fact, in less than thirty seconds, we were in the Ferris wheel car, and on our way up, despite the fact that, y'know, there were about a hundred other people in line. (Hey, remember Satan conspiring girl? I think she's back.)

I glanced out the window, and the Ferris wheel car seemed to sway with my resolve. Feeling nauseous, I pressed back against the seat. "Eurrgh…" I squeaked.

No, wait. I did not _squeak_, I—

I barked. Yeah. Barked is badass enough, right?

"Toph? Are you okay?" Sokka asked worriedly, scooting closer.

"Yes! Fine!" I took a deep breath, and realized that something _had_ to be done.

"Snoozles—I need a distraction," I broke in." So either jump outta the car, or…" I mourned the lost of my honor and sanity, both at once. "It's time to…talk about yourself. Or, wait, me. So. Talk about yourself, but me at the same time."

"Huh?" he looked confused, yet pleased. "Does that mean you _want_ to know about me?"

"No!" I snapped. Man I was getting pissed…I almost felt a little bad for snapping at the dude like that. I breathed in deeply, and shoved the thought right out of my mind. An apology was simply out of the question. "Just—okay, question number seven. How, when, and where, exactly, did you fall in love with me?"

Hey, I wanted to know. It wasn't like I _cared_ if he'd just…picked me out at random or something. At all. Or anything. I just….wanted to know.

Just shut up, alright?

I need freaking _reassurance_.

(Yeah. Reassurance. _Right_.)

For a moment, Sokka was lost in thought. But I just couldn't take it, although, under normal circumstances, I'd have worshipped the silence.

"Snoozles! Snap out of it," I commanded, "And we'll start with the basics. _How_ long have you been in love with me?"

"For a while," he answered immediately.

I blinked. "Snoozles, you do realize that doesn't really help," I said slowly. "How long is a 'while'?"

"Twelve years," Sokka replied weakly.

I jolted, and stared. "But—you—" I broke off, and subtracted inside my head. "That would mean that you were five. And in case you didn't know, five year olds _don't_fall in love," I pointed out dryly, and fought back the urge to squeal. From happiness, not fear. Because something just told me...I was onto something. And once again, I was gonna bask in the warmth of a little ray of sunshine shining through the clouds. 'Cause that was what it felt like sometimes, being around Sokka. Really.

Immediately after thinking it, I felt like slapping myself. It was like denying the facts were gonna make it any better, but it sure couldn't help to state them flat out—even just inside my head. There was no time to brood, however—Sokka's explanation was already well on its way.

"Do they?" he mused. "Maybe they do," Sokka said slowly, "In a way. Like I did. I mean, it wasn't like I was thinking 'I'm in love with her' or anything, but—" he looked away. "I—watched you. I kept track of you. And I cared about you, too."

"Like the sensitive guy you really are," I snorted. "So, do tell..." I leaned forward. "How did you meet me? 'Cause I don't really remember you."

"Oh," Sokka's eyes shifted towards the window, then back at me. "I wouldn't expect you to," he said. "I mean, you _were _only five years old." I didn't know what to say, or what the hell he was talking about.

"So..." I realized slowly, "You fell in love with a _five _year old? Uh-huh. _Right_. Now tell me, were you diagnosed with any mental disorders from birth on?"

"No, I don't think that I—" Sokka broke off, and frowned. "Wait, are you saying that—?"

"Yes!" I interrupted, rolling my eyes. "I insulted you. Big whoop. Just tell me..." I leaned forward eagerly. "How'd it happen?"

(Freaked out?

Worried?

Concerned over the increasingly shabby affair that was my mental state?

You should be.

Because you have a right to be. Just not yet. Trust me, that time will come.

Yes.

That time will definitely, positively, absolutely, without a doubt, come.)

Really. I was confused. I mean, seriously! What was there for shallow guys like Sokka _besides_ the whole love at first sight thing, anyway? (Which I don't believe in the first place. If you're _really_ that attracted to a person at first sight, all it means is that you either have a hell of a lot of sexual frustration, or just really, really want get your heart broken.)

But...

Eight year olds don't _have_ pent up sexual frustration.

...Or do they? Honestly, with Sokka, I wouldn't really be surprised.

"To put it simply," Sokka drawled, leaning back with his hands behind his head, "You had me at hello."

Redirecting my attention back at the man at hand, I squinted carefully. "And whaddya mean by that? I mean," I added, "I get the whole 'romantic' appeal, but seriously, Snoozles…how could I have _had you from hello_?"

I tried not to sound interested, like, at all. But honestly, I was intrigued. I was expecting something like "I dunno how it happened, but that point is that I _lurve_you!" or "You're so hot I couldn't resist. Even, you know, at five. Because five year olds can be freaking _smexidelic_. Yeah, totally." (Or whatever. I'm not the most original with these types of things.)

"Weeeeelll…" he drew out the syllable as long as he could. As the car reached the top of the Ferris wheel, I focused on Sokka as hard as I could—sometimes, you gotta make sacrifices, y'know?

"Y'see," Sokka began slowly, "I was at the park. I was just playing in the sand box with my sister, and then..." he smiled. "You came swaggering up to the swingset, and stuggled on with this fierce determination on your face. You were kinda intimidating then, even when you were five," Sokka chuckled. "I never told you that, though."

He paused, and left me hanging on his every word. It made me almost...happy, to know that I had something this special.

I mean creepy.

I mean stalker-like.

I mean...honestly, I didn't know what I meant anymore.

I was delusional.

I was demented.

So as Sokka continued onward, did I really have any choice _but_ to keep listening?

"And then, you started swinging. Or jerking the swing around, I guess. But a few seconds into it—you fell. It was kinda scary, seeing a little kid like that take such a big fall..." Sokka trailed off. "But, anyway, you just sat there, stunned. And after a minute, you started crying. It musta been kinda scary for you—I'm not sure if you'd ever swung before in your life."

I hadn't.

I wasn't sure why, but as Sokka spoke...

A scene that had layed dormant for years at the back of my memory was returning to me all at once.

"I walked over to you," he spoke softly, gazing off into the distance. "I reached out my hand to you, and asked you if you needed help. You just looked up at me...and smiled...and took my hand...and brushed yourself off. And then, and then," Sokka closed his eyes, as if remembering some great seen, "You whispered 'thank you,' so softly I thought I might've imaginied it. 'Cause right after that, you yelled so that everyone could hear, 'I don't need _your_ help,' and walked away."

Sokka shrugged, as my head spun.

'Cause guess what?

I remembered.

There had always been something at the back of my mind, of a shadowy figure reaching over to give me a hand. I'd thought it to be some sort of wacky dream, at first, but still.

It had comforted and consoled, felt the wait of my blood, sweat and tears upon it's brow.

Do I really _need_ to say how messed up that was?

Sokka began talking again, and for once, I listened.

"I guess I just payed attention to you, after that. When you came to school, I tried to keep up with what was going on...but when I got to middle school..." He looked sad. "I met Suki. I stopped watching. So it really _was_a shock when I ran into you in highschool, and all of my old feelings for you came coming right back. Wasn't a big jump from there."

"So—no one else had an impact on it, did they?" My brain was racing. "I mean, nobody gave you the idea or anything."

"Well, my old girlfriend kicked my ass," Sokka provided, and turned an interesting shade of green. "I mean—my old...err...boyfriend. 'Cause—" Sokka winced. "I was gay. And turned straight. 'Cause no _way_ could a girl kick my ass."

I sniggered. "Remind me to hook you up with my cousin."

As Sokka turned pale, I tapped my chin in thought.

Obviously, it was time to think this out.

So.

Sokka was that one dude, which could have been worse. It could have been a serial killer or something.

And also, it had made me happy. Kinda. To know that I was, err, special. And stuff.

Which equaled...trouble?

I didn't really know.

But, wait, I reasoned—

Why was I worried?

I'd tempted Fate, and it had turned out like always.

That is, biting me in the ass.

_Ha_, I thought, smirking devilishly, _thought I would give up, didja, Fate? Well, tough luck. I'm hanging on till the last._

Besides, this new revelation could wait for later. Right now, I just wanted to...y'know. Have fun with Sokka. Like the three F's—Fun, Fights, and Fu—err, Fraternization.

"So...you fell in love with me at the park, twelve years ago," I mused, and tried to quiet the flutters in my stomach. (Not at all because the guy I'd leaned on for so long was Sokka. Which meant that he really wasn't all that bad at all. Just from the swinging of the car, I told myself, as we finally, _finally_, prepared to get off. Just from that.) "Interesting."

"No," Sokka corrected. "That was when I _met_ you."

We stepped out of the Ferris wheel, and my smile turned to a frown. "So, wait, how long have you been _in love_ with me?"

"Since...two years, three months, eight weeks, five days, two hours, one minute and nine seconds ago," Sokka answered, after a brief consulation with his watch.

I gaped. "Are you _obsessed_?"

"Err—" he looked nervous. "No! Yes! Maybe! But—err—it's hard to keep track, you know! But I did. For you. And stuff. And...and...and..." Sokka backed away from me, before bursting out one last, "Can't you see my devotion?"

I watched him suspiciously. "Hmph. Some _devotion _ya got there. You sound more like some sorta stalker to me."

"I'd stalk _anything_for you," Sokka declared proudly. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, doofus. I don't care." Seriously. I didn't. (Though if I set him on my old boyfriend, that would probably scare good ol' Jet for life. So maybe it would come in handy after all.) "But what I mean is, are you _my_ stalker? Do you stalk _me_?"

Sokka considered this, and I faintly realized that we were on our third trip around the wheel, despite the relative calm of my stomach. "It depends. Do you want me to? 'Cause I can do that. Really. I have super awesome ninja gear and _everything_," he reassured me, as if I gave a damn.

I blinked. "Ninja...gear..."I trailed off. "_Right_. But if you haven't stalked me yet—"

"Nope," Sokka confirmed.

"—just don't start now, please," I finished. "Really. Don't."

Sokka smiled. "Anything for you, Toph. And I won't," he added. "I mean, I know you're gonna fall in love with me—" there he was, stating it again like it was a freaking _fact_"—but I wouldn't force you to hang out with me if you didn't want to. I mean, that was kind of why I did the—" Sokka swiftly cut himself off, and substitued lamely, "...the thing. The thing with the—stuff. And the people. And that one guy. Remember him?"

"Oh, yeah, _perfectly_," I snorted. "Look," I said suddenly, "I know that this whole summer escape was just a cheap trick to get me to hang out with you. Whatever. But..." I bit my lip, and averted my gaze. "It's...err...not so bad. Or as bad. As I though. Hanging out with you, I mean. But don't—" I winced. "Misinterperet this. Or get mushy on me or anything. I'm just saying it's not _quite _as bad as I thought it would be, 'kay?"

Sokka grinned. "One step closer."

"To the brink of the insanity," I muttered, glaring at him.

He laughed, and for once, I joined him.

(I tried to pretend that the winged beatings in my stomach were only from the strain of regaining my land legs.

And you know something?

I'm pretty sure it didn't work.)

* * *

So, err, right.

Y'know, the plan was still sucky. And stuff.

And maybe I'd begun to realize that, at the very back of my mind. At the very tip of the iceberg.

But what surprised me was—

Sokka had been. Y'know. With me. In a way.

See, all through my childhood, there'd been that dark figure, comforting in his strength.

I'd turned to him through so many hard times, so many fallen tears.

And now...Sokka?!

No. Just no.

But the fact of the matter was—

Well.

I couldn't deny it.

Sokka was a part of me now, as he always had been.

And right now, I was starting to think that I should probably just accept that, or, maybe, cut the whole bit out...

...before it was too late.

And I really think you know which one I was gonna choose.

* * *

**A/N: Did anyone catch 'days of the week,' my other Tokka oneshot? Kudos if you did :) This chap's a little unrefined and choppy in places, but I'll get to that later: right now I just really, really wanna get it up. So...hope you like it!**

**Also--check out my latest poll when you get the chance, please! I know it's a bit early to be voting on this story's end, but I want advice early on, so I can benefit from it. And...be on the lookout for _Love Bites_, the _first _Tokka vampire fic EVER (I think). What can I say**—**_who_could resist the utter smexiness of Tokka in vampire form? XD (Except maybe Edward Cullen, who is just as vampire and nowhere NEAR as smexidelic.)**

**Or maybe it'll be _Love Notes From Nowhere_ or _The Boomerang Files _instead. Hm...what do you guys think?**

**—Kyoshi**


	9. Chapter 8: Bitch

**A/N:** Meredith Brooks owns Bitch, however much of a Tokka song it may be.

* * *

Um, yeah.

This was _so_ sexual harassment.

And don't even get me started on the whole "OMG TOPH _LIKES_ IT" plotline. Seriously.

This was just _weird_.

Shocked and furious, I glared at Sokka as I shoved him off of me. "You," I bit out, "better not be trying to rape me. Because I know kung fu."

Which I totally didn't. But, hey, when you've seen enough Chuck Norris movies it starts to rub off on you.

Sokka paled. "But—the shirt—"

Ah, yes.

Glancing down at the _freaking reason for my inner pain, dammit_, I cursed inwardly.

Two handprints on the boobs, and the words _Be Direct_—in big, white lettering—beneath them.

_Be direct_.

Well, he certainly was _now_.

* * *

_I hate the world today  
You're so good to me  
I know but I can't change  
tried to tell you but you look at me like maybe I'm an angel  
underneath  
innocent and sweet  
Yesterday I cried  
You must have been relieved to see the softer side  
I can understand how you'd be so confused  
I don't envy you  
I'm a little bit of everything  
all rolled into one_

_I'm a bitch, I'm a lover  
I'm a child, I'm a mother  
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint  
I do not feel ashamed  
I'm your health, I'm your dream  
I'm nothing in between  
You know you wouldn't want it any other way_

—Bitch, Meredith Brooks

* * *

Err, yeah.

So…I was being all mushy and stuff, if I remembered correctly.

Which I was praying I wasn't. Remembering correctly, that was. 'Cause. Y'know. That would, err, suck.

Kinda.

Except I _wasn't_ sorry I asked Sokka. Because it had been…slightly interesting.

Maybe.

Okay, yeah, maybe I'd spent half the day banging my head against every available surface. Maybe I'd questioned my sanity and called Sokka 'dumbass' the rest of the day, weird stares or not.

But it was still kinda cool, y'know? 'Cause Sokka's feelings went deep. And when you try to chop off those bonds, however one sided they may be…

It hurts. Trust me, I know.

So I was kinda maybe sorta feeling guilty about when that time was gonna come. I mean, if Sokka's bonds were schedule for death sentence, I was pretty much the executioner.

With a big shiny, red, pointy awesome sword and wicked cool grim reaper cloak and everything. Though I was sorta not focusing on the utter badassness of how it'd look.

….Okay maybe I was a _little_, alright?! I just can't help this stuff, dammit!

But whatever.

The point was, I was feeling guilty. Which I don't like. At all. (_At freaking all_, do you hear me you evil Satan-conspiring wench up there you?!)

The point is, me and guiltiness don't mix. Which was kinda why I disliked it.

'Cause guiltiness made me feel like apologizing for something.

And apologizing would force me to swallow my pride.

And then I'd get all mad at myself because pride should never be swallowed. (It tastes like…shame. And me being wrong. Yeah, that.)

So all of that guiltiness pretty much but me in a—cue ominous music—_bad mood_.

And you know what time it is when Toph is in a bad mood.

No, seriously. You do.

It is a time feared by all and hated by many.

Oh yes.

It was _bitchy_ time.

* * *

I woke up at eight thirty in the morning—which is, like, at the crack of dawn…except after the sun's risen—and grabbed something random out of my closet.

Ah, random outfits. How I love thee.

In other words, it's pretty much a sign that I'm too busy acting bitchy to even _care_.

Unless it's a Disney t-shirt, in which case I must burry my head in the sand. (Because I do _not_ watch those sap storms. Nope. Not a chance. Not even at two am with my two best friends and a bucket of Rocky Road.)

Stomping down the stairs, I slouched into the kitchen.

And, what the hell with it, sniffed.

When I was sure my nose wasn't just smelling things, I stiffened. "What the—"

Errugh.

"Jeez, Snoozles," I shouted out to Sokka, wherever, following my nose to the source of the smoky smell, "You better not be burning the house down, 'cause you know what? That would freaking ruin my entire summer."

I paused outside the door to the patio. "And you know why? 'Cause…'cause…"

I hesitated.

Damn.

Because the truth was, I would kinda sorta maybe miss this place.

Which also made me wonder if I was going insane. Sokka Kuruk was _not_ the best summer of my life.

Except…he kinda was.

Not to say that it was. Y'know. _Fun_ here.

Just that my other summers had sucked.

And stuff.

"'Cause I'd have to spend the summer with my parents," I finished at last, softer. "Yeah." I swallowed. "That's why."

Then I stepped outside.

And blinked at what I saw.

"Hi, Toph," Sokka greeted from where he sat by the fire ring. "Marshmallow?" he offered, holding up one of the sweet, sugary puffs-of-heaven as if a peace offering.

Which now that I thought of it, it pretty much was.

For a moment, I took him in.

Bed headed, bleary eyed, and making…

_Smores_.

For breakfast.

Huh.

"…I could give today a little time," I allotted. "Maybe it won't be as bad as yesterday. Probably not." I cast a longing glance at the stacks of Hershey bars. "Mmm…" I mumbled to myself.

Then I remember I was supposed to be bitchy.

Glaring my best at Sokka, I sat down on the long, wooden bench he'd put out for us. "I hate you."

Sokka looked shocked. "But—what about our love? And—and the chocolate?" He held up a chocolate bar while simultaneously taking a bite of smores.

And _dammit I freaking wanted that chocolate_

."Our love…no. Chocolate…yes," I agreed, snatching my sweet, sweet Essence of Heaven from Sokka's grimy paws. Then I stuffed it in my mouth.

As I consumed the Food of the Gods, Sokka held out a plate of smores.

"They're good," he said through a mouthful of smores. "You should try one."

"Yeah, Snoozles, preach to your _own_ freaking choir," I snorted, snatching a smore from his plate. "Chocolate," I informed him through a blissful mouthful of graham crackers and marshmallows, "is my crack cocaine. Even at seven thirty in the morning."

Then, Sokka set the plate on the ground, looked over at me…

And when his eyes dropped to my shirt with nothing other then shock written across his face, well, _that_ was when all the trouble started.

"Ahem," Sokka coughed, scooting closer to me.

I scooted away. "Weirdo," I snorted. "Um, yeah, it's called _personal space_—"

But Sokka wasn't listening to my 'personal space' rant.

Nope.

Because he was too busy completely ignoring a little thing called _the imaginary bubbles they taught us about in, like, first grade._

And also sexually harassing me.

Don't even get me started on the whole "OMG TOPH _LIKES_ IT" plotline.

Seriously.

This was just _weird_.

'Cause y'know what? Sokka had _kept scooting_, slung his freaking _arm_ around me, and then—err—um—

Y'know.

Let his arm _graze my boobs_.

And then.

Um.

Go all fish-lippy and try to kiss me.

Being the kickass girl that I was, I glared at Sokka as I shoved him off of me. "You," I bit out, "better not be trying to rape me. Because I know kung fu."

Which I totally didn't. But, hey, when you've seen enough Chuck Norris movies it starts to rub off on you. (Or maybe it's the other way around. 'Cause you know what? I am _positive_ Chuck Norris wasn't that badass until I started watching his movies.)

Sokka looked confused. And like he thought I might hurt him. Which I totally was. "But—the shirt—"

And that's when I remember.

The randomness, that was.

'Cause, um, two handprints on the boobs, and the words _Be Direct_—in big, white lettering—beneath them wasn't really what I had in mind.

But seriously.

_Be direct_.

Well, I couldn't claim he hadn't followed directions.

I frowned.

Ah, well.

I mean, I wasn't gonna _explain _that I'd gotten something _wrong_.

I was just gonna...smear the truth. A bit.

"If there was one thing I could change about you, it would be your inability to recognize sarcasm," I scowled at Sokka, flubbing over the fact that I had failed to read the shirt before I wore it. "I mean," I added, "if I didn't change _everything_ about you. Ya moron."

Sokka still looked like he thought I was gonna hurt him.

And, hey, I didn't wanna let him down!

So I gave the dumbass a nice, friendly, punch in the arm.

"Ow!" Sokka squealed, clutching the abused limb. "I mean—not ow," he amended hastily. "Thanks. 'Cause I like pain. 'Cause it's, err, manly."

"Oh, would you like some more, then?" I asked, a smirk twitching at the corners of my lips.

Sokka went pale. "Well—maybe—it's just—it isn't the best time…" he squeaked, leaning away from me.

Then, I did something that surprised both of us.

I laughed.

"Snoozles," I chuckled, "One day, you are gonna find yourself in a sticky situation, with only manliness to blame for it."

He thought on this. "No," Sokka shook his head. "I don't think I will. Manliness," he informed me, "is very reliable."

I snorted and shook my head. "Whatever, dude."

He squinted at me. "_Dude_?"

"Dumbass, I mean," I corrected, swiping another smore from the plate. "'Cause. Y'know. That's what you are."

Sokka nodded wisely. "Right. I'm—" His face twisted. "I am _not_!" he protested.

I smirked. "_Sure_ you aren't."

Then I realized my bitchiness had pretty much evaporate. Or at least dropped to normal levels.

That was, with exposure to Sokka.

But I wasn't really focusing on that aspect.

More that, dammit, I had freaking _chocolate_ and that was enough to make all my troubles disappear. However moronic and persistent they might have been.

"So, what would _you_ change about _me_?" I asked casually, licking the marshmallow off my fingers. "Y'know, as a sorta eight question."

I blinked.

And repeated what I'd just said.

"…as a sorta eight question," I murmured to myself.

_Eighth_.

But—it _couldn't_ be the eighth day!

I mean, seriously.

I'd been thinking…third? Fourth? _Maybe_ fifth?

But _eighth_?

That meant for pretty much the eighth time, I was losing it. (Freaking _losing_ it.)

All I wanted to know, though, was how the hell Sokka had gotten the time and money to brainwash me.

'Cause.

Y'know.

Time going _fast_?

While I was with Sokka?

Ha.

Nope.

No _way_.

As _if_.

Not in a million—

But, apparently, _somebody _had finally decided to reply.

"Nothing." I was distracted by Sokka's flat out answer as he gazed at me, a strangely tender and sincere expression on his face.

Okay.

Um, yeah.

Forget about the freaking _eighth day_. Whatever. Over and done with—and _so_ two seconds ago.

Maybe 'cause I didn't care anymore. 'Cause. Y'know. I'm just badass like that.

…But probably 'cause I was too busy being all disbelieve-y about Sokka.

Um, yeah.

_Mushiness_, anyone?

And...

I refused to believe that all of my attempted irritating him had gone to waste. _Refused_ to, dammit.

"Yeah, right," I snorted, rolling my eyes at his antics. "Now spit it out. _What_?"

Seriously, I was interested.

I mean, it's always interesting to know which part of you grates on someone's nerves.

And Sokka?

Well, let's just say that whatever that part of me was, it was very, very soon going to have a huge, body-wide takeover. Hehehehehe.

But Sokka just blinked at me.

"I just told you: nothing." He sounded perplexed, like no other answer would be reasonable. Like, at all. We're talking terms of even on an alien planet.

"Nothing," I repeated, incredulous. "_Nothing_."

'Cause to tell you the truth, I was divided into three parts. Like a twisted sorta love triangle…except not.

Part one was mourning the loss of my chance to annoy Sokka above and beyond the normal amount.

Part two was just kinda weirded out that someone thought _I_ was perfect. Since there could obviously be no other reason. (Even though perfection is pretty much the most boring thing you could dream up in a person.)

Part three was—prepare yourselves, ladies and germs—was actually kind of…

…Relieved.

Hey, stab me with a spork if you so wish.

But it was true.

And I just couldn't believe it—_any_ of it.

I mean, seriously.

It wasn't _fair_.

In some sixteen years, a total of four, maybe five people had accepted me for who I was.

And _Sokka_ was the _sixth_?

Please, someone shoot me. Or wait, cut the gun a break and use the spork.

Furrowing my brow, I managed to get out—sounding just as confused as I was, "You're serious? But…" I hesitated. "_Why_?"

Sokka understood what I was trying to ask, even if I didn't.

"Because I love you for you," he explained. Sokka frowned. "However cheesy that may sound." Clearing his throat, he added, "You're already _im_perfect, and perfection isn't something I could ask of you. Since your already there….in an imperfect sort of way."

I wrinkled my nose. "All offense intended, Snoozles, but that makes no sense."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "How's this? One part of you…" Sokka faltered, then continued, "One part of you taken away would somehow mean less of a whole. Know what I mean? Sometimes you act like tough you, and sometimes you're nice, and sometimes you're cranky or moody or whatever, but…"

Sokka shrugged, and smiled.

"I love you, whatever side of you is showing."

Okay, um, yeah.

Sokka was getting really fluffy. And cliche.

And normally this would be the part where I told you how much I hated it.

But not today.

Because...well, maybe...

_Maybe_ I liked it.

_Maybe_ it filled me with just a little bit of gratitude.

And _maybe _I swore you could see the glow off me in Timbuktu. However cheesy and dumb and retarded it might have been.

Which was totally what I thought it was.

Y'know.

Deep within the inner-inner-inner-inner me.

But you know what?

I, Toph Bei Fong—just Toph—felt happy about it.

Because it felt _good_ to know that Sokka accepted me like that. Not just how I was, but whatever side I showed.

Which, in all honestly, was pretty much the same thing.

So, like I said.

_Good_.

And right now, I really, really, _really_ wanted to make that feeling just go the hell away.

But I couldn't.

'Cause of the _deal_ I'd made with Fate.

Sighing inwardly, I decided that I had no other choice than to let its evil, glowy goodness penetrate my soul.

'Cause. Y'know.

Nothing would really come of it anyway.

"So…nothing," I repeated one last time. "_Nothing_. Hm…"

I smiled. Unintentionally, of course. But I kept it up there anyway. Due to radiation or carbon monoxide in the air or something like that.

"I think I could get used to this," I mused. "But mostly," I added, "'Cause this means I have something to hold over your head when I randomly throw stuff at you."

"Actually…" Sokka appeared thoughtful. "_Maybe_ I'd change the randomly throwing stuff at me part. Yeah," he confirmed, "_Definitely_ the randomly throwing stuff at me part."

I did the expected and lodged a rock at him.

"Hey…" A thought struck Sokka as the stone missed. "I guess we two pretty much have a _rocky relationship_, huh?" he grinned.

I groaned, and plopped my face in my hands.

'Cause Sokka appreciated me—exactly as I was.

A lot.

…And also I kinda sorta appreciated him back.

Which also made want to stab him.

I was noticing that these questions and my out-of-control feelings?

They kinda went together.

I mean, seriously. I was losing it nearly ever day now—hell, I _was_ losing it every day now—and I couldn't stop it.

Not just because of my bet with Fate, but because I just...couldn't.

And there was one other thing I was noticing, too:

Sokka and stabbing urges?

Yeah.

Well, like some other things around here (cough—sporks and stabbing—cough), those two pretty much went around hand in hand.

* * *

Yeah.

Err.

Well, y'know, in my defense, my whole life people had shunned my true, kickass personality. And stuff.

But let me explain myself.

The entire time I've spent on this earth, I've only been trying to tell everyone—my parents, my teachers whoever—to just _shut the hell up and take me as I am._

And believe it or not, it doesn't happen as often as you think.

So I'd been waiting for this, actually.

I'd been waiting for someone to come out and say that it didn't freaking _matter_ if someone—not just me—was acting like a bitch some of the time, or was horribly cranky in the morning, or even had random bursts of urges to stab...

...Because they loved you anyway.

I'd been waiting for them my whole entire _life_.

And...Sokka Kuruk was that person?

...Please, someone shoot me. (On second thought...just use the spork.)

* * *

**A/N: **Hopefully it's better than the last version :) And would you guys mind voting on my new poll? Not _I'd Lie_ related, but I was curious :)

-dances-

WE HAVE TOKKA WEEK, WE HAVE TOKKA WEEEEEEEEEEEK... (Go to TwilightRose2's DA journal for info.)


	10. Chapter 9: I'm Only Me When I'm With You

"Are these for nosebleeds?"

I glanced at over at Sokka, and felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I realized exactly what box he was holding.

I bit back a growl.

Just like _Sokka_ to ruin my perfectly good WalMart expedition right off the bat. Hmph. "Snoozles. They're called...err...they're called..."

Jeez.

This was _all_ his fault. I mean, _seriously_. Err. Yeah-ish. Have you ever heard of eight grade Health class?

Mm-hm.

I'm pretty sure they covered everything Sokka would ever want to know in _there_.

* * *

_And you know everything about me  
You say that you can't live without me_

_I'm only up when you're not down  
__Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground  
__It's like no matter what I do  
__Well you drive me crazy half the time  
__The other half im only trying to let you know  
__That what I feel is true  
__And I'm only me when I'm with you_

_When I'm with anybody else, it's so hard to be myself  
__Only you can tell_

—I'm Only Me When I'm With You, Taylor Swift

* * *

We were out of food.

That's the first thing I realized as I slunk into the kitchen at seven am in the morning, blinking blearily at the empty fridge. I didn't even have the energy to scowl. But, I mean, _seriously_. Sokka was a freaking _food addict_. You'd think he could at least keep around a leftover hamburger or...or _something_.

_Why _was I staring at an empty refrigerator at eight in the morning, you ask? Which, time wise, is the crack of dawn.

In Arabia. Or something.

I'll ask again: _why_? Well, let me tell you, it's a long story.

See, it started when I woke up after only a half an hour of sleep, pulse racing and in a cold sweat. I turned over, ignored what I'd just dreamt--'cause let me tell you, it hadn't been a _scary_ type of dream--and went back to sleep.

When I woke up again, admittedly much later, around seven, the same traitorous cellphone that also recorded me calling out for Sokka in my _sleep_, had once again committed an act of betrayal. I tell you, if it weren't for text messaging and my wicked awesome badass Batman screensaver, this cellphone would _so _be slammed against the wall by now. _Totally._

Well, it had recordedme saying Sokka's name. A-freakin-gain.

Or _moaning_ it, to be precise.

I tell you, if it weren't for text messaging and my wicked awesome badass Batman screensaver, this cellphone would _so _be slammed against the wall by now. _Totally._

And let's make this clear: it wasn't a nightmare. Nope. This kind of dream was less blood-and-guts and more cum-and-thrust.

Grinding my teeth, I started composing within my head a poem entitled _If I Could Screw the Universe _(somewhere along the way it turned into "If I Could Screw Sokka Kuruk," and not the way I normally meant it). _Then _I snuck into the living room to watch a few minutes of shirtless, hot anime boys on TV. Just to make sure my hormones were sated.

Apparently, they weren't. Despite the fact that Renji Abarai is the hottest freaking thing the universe has ever seen.

Except perhaps for that one kind of pepper that I can't remember the name of, the same that almost burned a hole through my dad's tongue when someone dared him to eat it in the third grade.

Yeah. I wish he was still like that, too.

After a good, strong dose of Coke induced caffeine-age, I found myself stomping upstairs. I threw open the door to Sokka's room, and said loudly, "Hey, Snoozles. Get your lazy ass outta bed and into the car, 'cause we're goin' to Wal-Mart."

"No, please," Sokka mumbled in reply, beginning to stir. "Not the bacon."

I frowned. "_Hell_ naw am I forgetting about the bacon." Canadian or otherwise. Sokka rolled over, and closed him eyes once more with a stream of indiscernible mumblings.

Le sigh. I mean, _honestly_. I could see no other way. Sokka was just being too difficult. Even in his sleep. Which, y'know. People normally can't consciously control and stuff.

But whatever. I mean, this was _Sokka._ He'd find a way. Or stumble across one in his idiocy.

Yep.

It was bed jumping time.

Stepping backwards into the hall, I sprinted into Sokka's room, leaped into the air...

And came down directly on his bed.

"Earthquake!" Sokka shrieked, sitting up straight in bed with eyes peeled wide. "Save yourself, Toph! SAAAAAAAVE YOURSEEEEEEEEEEELF!!" he shrieked.

And flailed. Just flailed. F-L-A-I-L-E-D. _Flailed_. Flailed I tell you.

Heheh. "Flailed" is such a fun word, isn't it? _Especially _when Sokka was concerened.

I snickered. Man. I had to do this more often. "It _is_ me, moron."

"Oh. Right." Blinking away his bleariness, Sokka looked like he'd love nothing more than to go back to bed. Oh, except a crack-of-dawn (I mean _seriously._...it's freaking _eight o'clock_) make out session with yours truly.

Which I was _so_ not contemplating. At all.

"Why'd you wake me up?" Sokka asked, sounding the tiniest bit annoyed. "Are you on fire? Because if it isn't, I'd really rather go back to sleep." Struggling to wrangle up the proper covers, I yanked his blanket away in one fell swoop. Sokka, accordingly, curled up on his bed in a fetal position.

"First off, worst. Pick up line. Ever," I told him disgustedly. "I mean, _seriously_. But some _effort_ into it next time."

Sokka adopted an intensely thoughtful expression on his face, attempting to take my advice to heart.

"Secondly..." I paused, glaring at Sokka threateningly. "Don't even think about it."

Then, I grinned.

"Get ready, Snoozles, 'cause we're going to Wal-Mart!"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we were in Wal-Mart.

Hey, don't get me wrong. I hate everything mainstream, commercial, or harboring dangerous fugitives such as bubble gum flavored toothpaste. But seriously.

They had a freaking _coffee aisle_. Um, hello. _Addiction_. Even though Starbucks is _so_ much better.

But I don't buy from them anymore, except in a emergency situations (they happen. Daily).

'Cause, y'know. I mean.

_Please_, bitch. Am I gonna pay five dollars for a friggen _teaspoon _of coffee? (Yes. Yes I am. Now come here, my sweet, sweet, mocha late...).

I stepped into the frozen foods aisle, rolling my eyes as I heard Sokka call out for me within five seconds of my departure.

Whatever.

'Cause. Well.

It was the freaking _cereal aisle_ I'd left him in. Dude, don't bug , 'kay? I mean, _seriously_.

You have _Apple Jacks_, got it? You don't _need _me. Or love or hope or oxygen or anything else worth giving a damn over, for that matter. Um, hello.

They're _Apple Jacks_.

When we'd first gotten here, I'd been totally badass ninja like about getting a box of tampons. But _no_. Mr. Oblivious-Because-I'm-A-Total-Dumbasstastic-Moron-That-Doesn't-Know-The-First-Thing-About-Freaking-Female-Hygien just had to go pluck the box right. Outta. The freaking. Cart.

"Are these for nosebleeds?" Sokka wondered out loud, shaking the box beside his ear in an attempt to cure his beffudlement.

I'd snorted, through my...slightly tinged light pale pink-ish cheeks. "Snoozles. They're called...err...they're called..." Dammit. I just couldn't say it out loud.

Taking a deep breath, I'd finally managed to spit out, "They're _tampons_."

"Oh." Apparently, from the look on his face, he got it. "Well. Err. I'll just put these down now." Sokka cleared his throat, and gingerly set the box back in the cart.

Then he hid them under a box of Kraft macarroni and cheese.

I had snickered. "What is it, Snoozles? Trying to conceal you're feminine side from the rest of the world?" Then this random dude popped up and asked me if I knew where the magazine aisle was.

I scowled. Then somehow ended up smirking instead. "Looking for porn, eh?"

He'd turned a deep red. "I am _not_."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes, not willing to bother with him a second longer. "Ask an employee, 'kay?" I had grumbled, "Do I _look_ like I live at WalMart?" And then the coward scampered off like the wimp he was. I turned back to Sokka, and snorted.

"Can you _believe_ him? Total pervert," I'd snorted, shaking my head in sadness at his horrible incurable dumbass lameness. "God. Get a _girlfriend_, why don't you?" I'd shut up when I realized I'd just sort of accidentally maybe talked to Sokka liked he was my _friend_.

But get this: just after I'd stopped talking, I heard footsteps echo quickly down the aisle opposite us--footsteps I was _sure_ hadn't been there before. Can you say _lame_?

Trying to practice out their retard ninja skills on a master like _me_. For some reason, though, I had a feeling these footsteps weren't the last I'd see of our mysterious ninja-wannabe.

As for the shopping, so far we'd covered balloons (for loud obnoxiously loud popping noises), dried goods, soda, and action figures.

Since. Y'know. I mean.

Who can _resist_ those things?

I'd hopped over to the frozen goods aisle, leaving Sokka with the cereal. In fact, I was there now, nearly alone. There was another girl, maybe a few years older than me, trying to decide which bag of peas to stuff into her basket. Funny, though.

I almost had a feeling that _she'd_ been the footsteps I'd heard, too.

But, whatever. I had no room for stealth-less eavesdroppers, especially with my own ninja-tastic skills. Just mindin' my own business, trying to decide which kind of frozen pizza was least sucky.

And then, out of nowhere...

The girl spoke.

"How long have you been in love with him?" she blurted out, averting my startled and slightly angry eyes. So it _had_been her. And, from the looks of it, she'd seen me and Sokka as well.

Do I have to mention that it is just _wrong _to tell a random stranger she's in love with an equally random (or so I assumed) moron after spying on them for a grand total of fifteen seconds?

"I'm not," I answered immediately, as if saying the words out loud would make them true. Which they were. True.

I mean, _duh_. Saying it wasn't would be like calling _me_a possessive and controlling bitch that obsesses over her badass awesome hat, her hat of badass awesomeness, ever minute of the day.

Right?

Yeah. _Right_.

"And I don't see how the hell it's you're business, anyway," I scowled, a few awkward seconds too late. "What is it with you and makeup, anyway? Do you have it smeared all over your face for a reason?"

Subconsciously, she touched her face. "I--yes."

She didn't say what it was, and I didn't ask. I wasn't here to listen to some random high schooler's sob story, or comfort them. Hey, if people expected me to be a psyco-analyis half the time, then I expected _them_ to pay me.

I mean, _seriously_. Do you _know_ the kind of crackpot insane weirdos that have randomly stopped on the street to confess to me their deepest, darkest secrets and expected _me_ to help them with their problems?

I'd tell you, but compared to me, everyone in the world is such a wimp it would drive _them_ insane as well.

And guess what? _More _psycho analysis. Well whoop de flipping do.

"So, I'm Suki," the girl was finishing at last. I wasn't sure if she'd been talking a while, or had just started. "I can tell you've fallen for him, by the way. It's not that hard, is it?" Suki's voice was becoming softer, more vulnerable.

Oh, god. _Exactly_ what I _hadn't_ wanted.

I bailed. "Look, lady, I got cookies to buy--"

"Shut up," Suki requested.

So I was, like, Chuck Norris level on the Chart of Badass Awesomeness, right behind my hat (forever holding the spot of number one) and she was more a random snail in...Jamaica or something.

But, whatever.

Since I was too tired and exhausted to retort, for once in my life...

I shut up.

"Maybe you won't admit it to yourself, but you love him," Suki told me plainly. "I know it's hard to relinquish your pride, and maybe it won't make a difference, but..." She shrugged, and smiled sadly. "I want you to have him, even if I can't."

I felt all my urges to shut up stomped on and ground into the dirt with a steel-pointed heel, along with any good will towards Suki, redheads (hey, I could tell this stuff _some_ of the time), and the human race as a whole.

Who the _hell_ did she think she was, telling me what I was feeling? Maybe part of it was that deep down, I knew she was right, or could be a week from now--or maybe even less. But still.

_No _one told Toph Bei Fong what to do. Or what she already had.

"Have you ever considered," I asked through gritted teeth, "that I don't _want_ him? That I don't want _any_of this? Just take him back, alright? Take back Sokka! I don't care."

But, the thing was...

I did.

Okay, it was stupid and retarded and dumbass-tastic to even dream about caring. But Suki? Over me?

God. Talk about jealousy. Oh, and _Misery Business_, _Girlfriend _and just about ever Taylor Swift song ever written rolled into one. Which basically means it'd top the charts and win a bunch of awards and also get me lotsa money and dammit I really wanted to record this song now.

Back to the point.

It didn't just back me jealous thinking of it, it made me want to hold Sokka close to me, to my heart, and never let go. That was beyond stupid; it was dangerous.

'Cause if I held Sokka too close to my heart, he might actually become part of it. And you know I didn't want that. Or at least _hoped_ I didn't want that.

And I hoped that I truly hoped I didn't want that, because if I didn't there was no hope for me at all. Assuming that makes sense, like, at all.

Chuckling softly, Suki shook her head. "You're lying to yourself. I can tell."

"Oh really? _How_?" I shot back. "Please reveal to me, O Wise One, what _you_ see that _I_ can't." And I really _didn't _know what the hell she was talking about. My _God_, woman.

Could you _get_ any more annoying?

The answer was yes, unfortunately for me.

"I see the way you change when you're around him," Suki answered. "You're happier. You smile more often. Or, well, smirk," she corrected, cutting off the beginning of my objection.

"When you're around anyone else, you're closed off and sealed--not so much because you want to be, but because you are. Around Sokka, though...you can't help it," Suki said quietly, meeting my undecided gaze with surefire eyes. "You're only yourself around Sokka Kuruk."

"That's--that's--" I spluttered, trying to identify the proper term.

None came to mind. Well, except for _bullshit_. Or perhaps 'total and completel insanity, the likes of which the world has never known, even from lame, cheap Kung Fu movies.'

"That's _not _true," I said at last, glaring my best--a glare that would have made Satan conspiring girl cringe. "What kinda reverse psychology are you trying to pull on me? I am _Toph_ and if I was gonna _act_ any other way I'd know it."

"But you don't," Suki replied quickly, flipping open her cell phone to glance at the time. It was clunky and large, obviously an older model than my own sleek phone. "I have to be going now, anyway. Hope that helped!" she smiled, giving me a little wave as she walked towards the exit.

"There's no freaking _chance_ I'm in love with him!" I yelled after her, just for good measure. "No friggen _way_!"

Who _was _this chick? She came into the local Wel-Mart superstore at eight thirty in the morning, lectured random strangers about their relationships with other random people, and then just _left_ without an explanation?

And I _didn't _know her. Though the name "Suki" sounded somehow familiar. Had Sokka _dated_ her once? Maybe he had--I honestly didn't care.

Besides, he loved _me_ now.

The thought hit me as I stepped into the cereal aisle, and I let out a low hiss of displeasure. What was I _thinking_?

That was a _bad_ thing. Couldn't I realize at least that much?

Sokka caught one whiff of my expression and went pale. "Um, it's okay, Toph," he said nervously, setting his box of Coco Puffs gingerly back on the shelf, "We can always get Fruity Loops instead...y'know...nothing's certain...yet."

I scoffed. "_Please_, Snoozles. Um, hello? Apple Jacks are _so_ the way to go." Inwardly, though, I was starting to brew over what Suki had said, instead of being pissed that she had said it.

_Did_I act different around Sokka? It didn't matter in the long run, I was sure...but something kept nagging.

'Cause...if Sokka could change me on a level deeper than even _I_ could tell, wouldn't that mean I could fall for him without realizing it, too?

Except that wasn't happening. At all. 'Cause. Y'know. It would bring on the apocalypse and stuff like that, the only survivors being cockroaches and my badass awesome hat, my hat of badass awesomness. And am I handing _my _hat over to _cockroaches_?

_Hell _naw.

"Right." Sokka nodded quickly, and tossed a box of Apple Jacks into the cart. Pausing, he stroked his chin thoughtfully and surveyed the cereal boxes. "Okay, so are you thinking free motion detector, or flashlight-music-playing keychain, 'cause I was heading towards--"

"Snoozles?" Chewing on my lip, I interrupted him without a second thought. Now that I was paying attention, I sounded more...vulnerable then normal. Like my voice was raw enough to show beneath the skin. It made me feel naked in a way. "This is my ninth question. Do I act _different_ around you then I do around anyone else?"

"What are you talking about? You're Toph. You're not going to act like anyone like yourself," Sokka shrugged.

"That's...that's not what I meant." I bit my lip. "I mean...do I..." I winced. _Dammit_. Here went a lifetime of badassery all at once. "Am I happier when I'm around you? Do I smile more? Do I seem more...open?"

Sokka stared at me. "Look, I always knew you'd come around," he said after a moment, "but you could have taken the time to get some better pick up lines, seriously. Y'know," Sokka continued, catching onto the idea, "they have these whole _databases_ on line--"

"No! Sokka!" Taking a deep breath, I snapped, "It's _not_ a pickup line! If I were gonna use one it'd have to be really dirty and really good, 'cause lately I've been having these--"

I turned beet red. Since when was I a blabbermouth? And only around Sokka, apparently.

If this was the real me, I wasn't really liking myself all too much right now.

"What? What's been going on?" Sokka asked curiously.

"Nothing," I muttered. This was going _way_ too far. "Forget I mentioned it."

"Wait--I think I get it now," he said slowly, realization falling into his eyes. "You act more like yourself around me then you do around other people because normally you build a wall around you and them. But you trust me more then you trust anyone else, so...you don't have to," Sokka continued, thrilled with his realization. "You _trust_ me!"

I stared at him like he had bugs coming out of his ears. Specifically the cockroaches that we're gonna steal my badass hat, my hat of badass awesomeness.

"Um, no. Unfortunately for you, I don't do the whole psycho analysis deal, 'kay?" I scoffed. But somehow or other, the worry persisted.

Because...because even if I _was_ only ever myself around Sokka, that didn't matter. I'd survived without him for long enough.

So why did the thought of going _back_ to that sting so much? Even knowing that he was only _one_ of the people that accepted me for who I really was, it had been much, much harder to actually start being _Toph_ around my other friends then this felt.

Being myself around Sokka felt...easy. Like breathing.

But I'd survived without oxygen for sixteen precious years, hadn't I? If it all came down to it, it couldn't be _too_ hard to breathe a little shallower, get myself used to dirty air.

Besides, this was probably all just the feeling of being free, finally, from my parents. Sokka wasn't part of the equation. Nope. No _way_.

And even if he was...it wasn't necessary for me to be around him, or feel quite this relaxed and revealed without getting awkward.

It wouldn't bother me at _all_.

Or would it?

* * *

Okay, so, it was a weird day. Weird question, weird people...weird _everything_.

But y'know what I couldn't get over?

The fact that she might be right.

Hey, I'd said it: It normally took, like, _forever_ to crack past tough-Toph and get down to, for fear of sounding too much like Disney Channel, the _real me_.

Looking back on it, Sokka had cracked it by Day 2.

And something else.

In the beginning, I'd always known there was a only a one-in-a-million chance I'd fall for Sokka Kuruk. But the more time that passed, the more I became convinced that there wasn't _any_ chance at all.

But let's be honest.

When I said that there wasn't even the slightest _chance_ I was in love with Sokka Kuruk even as we spoke--

I lied.

* * *

**A/N: **Jeez. Crap. It's been, what, two months? _Dammit_. Okay, in order to make it up to you guys for the impossibly long wait, I'm not going to stop updating till this ol' gal here is _finished_. Done with. Kaput!

...Did I forget to mention that due to smilypie's brilliant suggestion, I have now found a way to limit the excess of chapters I must write for _I'd Lie_ to only 6 more actual chapters? OH FREAKING YEAH.

P.S. This is the longest chapter I will ever write. I swear. Next one shall be around 2, 500 words, all the rest around 2, 000. You hear that, typing fingers? NO. MORE.


	11. Chapter 10: Bubbly

**A Note to my Readers:** About a week ago, I received a review from an anonymous reviewer asking me, "Hey, Kyoshi, what's with the lack of updates?" I contemplated this, and ultimately decided that it was because:

a) There's a little something called _Finals_, and they are approaching very, very, very soon. Next week, actually. Thus, there are some of us (me) who are currently studying like their life depends on it (which is kind of does).  
b) Speaking of which, I _do _have a life…  
c) …and however shocking it may seem, fanfiction _isn't_ _it_.

Yes. Well. Sorry if I came across as snappy. I hope that clears up your questions :)

**

* * *

**

"The tenth question is still ready to be asked," I proclaimed, because no way in _hell_ was I gonna let him steal it from me.

He had no problem with this. "Then let's hear it. I'm ready for anything. I am Super Sokka!" Sokka cried, doing his best to look like a macho, tough superhero.

And failing. Because, y'know, _nobody_ can live up to Batman or Spiderman, and absolutely no one in the _universe_ could ever come _close_ to Ironman.

So, just because I could, I flicked Sokka in the head. He dropped his pose, but stuck with the attitude.

"That didn't hurt. Nope. Not at all," Sokka insisted. "Because superheroes don't _feel_ pain."

This boy was just _asking _for it, wasn't he?

I smirked my smirk of pure doom. Sokka looked slightly afraid.

Because _some_body in the vicinity was about to get kicked in the shin.

Oh, yes.

Was life _good_, or was life freaking _good_?

* * *

_You give me feelings that I adore_

_They start in my toes  
Make me crinkle my nose  
Wherever it goes  
I always know  
That you make me smile  
Please stay for a while now  
Just take your time  
Wherever you go_

—Bubbly, Colbie Caillat

**

* * *

**

When I woke up that next day, I knew that something had changed from the WalMart the night before.

Well, for one thing, I now officially didn't like Suki. But, y'know. That was probably an after affect of finding out that she's dated Sokka or something. Even though it didn't bother me, like, at all.

Secondly, I was beginning to think that however much I didn't like her…well, that maybe Suki was _right_. I know, I know, it sounded crazy.

But seriously, I _was_ a lot like myself around Sokka. And I was starting to realize that it might not exactly be a _bad _think.

Yeah. Scary, isn't it?

'Cause seriously. Even from the beginning, I didn't have to _pretend_ for Sokka.

I couldn't hide from him forever, though. I knew that. So when I was so bored that I felt like my head was about to explode, I began to make my way downstairs. I'd spent the last two hours after I'd woken up listening to my iPod and realizing, ever so slowly, that the one-in-ten-thousand chance that I'd fall for Sokka had already dropped.

And I don't mean it was one-in-five-thousand, or even one-in-one-thousand. Nope.

Since I'd actually begun _admitting_ it to myself, it had fallen to a whopping one-in-one-hundred. I didn't like the number one hundred. It was evil, and should have its ass kicked by Chuck Norris.

When I got downstairs, I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the table and made my way out onto the sun porch. That's where I found him, most days, eating toast or whatever, and that's where I found him today.

"Hey, Snoozles," I yawned, still a little tired. Taking a bite of banana, I sat down next to him.

"Hi, Toph," Sokka greeted. "Got your tenth question for me?" he asked, as he crammed a piece of bacon into his mouth.

And that's when I looked at him, chock full of meat, and my stomach dropped to my knees. My throat seized up like I couldn't breathe, and my heart began to race like it does in all those cliché romance novels out there. I couldn't _stand _it.

If Sokka noticed the heated flush in my face, he didn't show it. He just…swallowed his bacon, and kept eating his toast.

And my heart kept racing. But not because of the toast, even if it _was_ buttered and had my favorite kind of jelly on it.

No. This was far more disturbing. My stomach was dropping, my pulse pounding, and my lungs committing suicide because of _Sokka Kuruk_. As in the one person that it should never, _ever_ have been happening around.

_Why the hell do I suddenly feel like I'm freaking in _love_ with you?_ I wanted to ask—no, to _demand_. (And then to ignore the part of my brain that said, _well, maybe it's because you _are, not to mention slap it in the face a few hundred times.)

Because, dammit, it was _frustrating. _Just yesterday, I'd been absolutely freaking _fine_ around Sokka Kuruk, and today, it was just…horrifying. Sucky. _Awful._

'Cause guess what? That leaping up and down feeling you get in your stomach when you think about him? The way your air tube seizes shut because oh my god, it's _him_ and you don't think you can _ever_ stop envisioning his face inside your head and just plain old _thinking _about him?

Well, that's called L-O-V-E. Or C-R-U-S-H—whichever you prefer. But the fact of the matter was that all of those reactions meant one thing: L-I-K-E. That is, _like_—for all of you that have been struggling with the past three.

And let me tell you, for anyone else that would be all rainbows and butterflies and clouds and freaking _puppies_, for God's sake. But for me? Nope.

'Cause, see, "like" might be _spelled_ like, well, like "like" is spelled in the dictionary, but in _my_ personal dictionary, there was only one definition next to "like."

That definition read: "Bad news. Ohmigod, really, _really_ bad news. 'Cause remember Jet and stuff? Yeah. He broke your heart and that totally sucked. So just never bother with this 'like' stuff ever again and you'll be totally fine for the rest of your life, 'kay?"

Okay, well, more or less. And if you were me, well, there would've been the exact same definition in _your_ personal dictionary.

Of course, my dictionary also labels bubble gum toothpaste as "a horrible, horrible invention created by lame people in order to taint bubble gum's good name, while simultaneously convincing innocent children to put toxic-tasting waste into their mouths." So maybe it isn't _always _accurate.

But it was accurate on this, dammit. It freaking _was_, because I freaking _say so_, got that, bitches?

So I _didn't_ ask Sokka why the hell I was feeling like this.

Instead, I searched my mind for a nice, inconspicuous tenth question…and ended up blurting out, "Why the hell did you date _Suki_?"

Because. Seriously. Even if she _had _been hovering around 7 or 8 on the 1 to 10 Awesomeness Scale—she could've been, for all I knew—_I_ was still, y'know, 1442. Or something.

Sokka was actually hovering around 51 or so himself, just because it gave him 207 extra points because I _might_ have…feelings for him (Sokka's previous ranking was a whopping -156).

Sokka just looked confused. "What? How'd you meet _her_?"

With a sigh, I looked away. "No, no, never mind," I muttered, deciding that in the end, I didn't care much at all. Besides, there were plenty more questions I could ask, more interesting than some red-headed ex of his.

So…what was I supposed to ask him?

As I chewed on the inside of my cheek, Sokka suggested, "You could let me ask you a question for once. Because. Y'know. That would be _pre_tty cool." But his voice was layered with the kind of nonchalance that was obviously feigned, and said—all the more obviously—that he was just _dying_ for the chance. His casual, yet somehow imploring eyes met mine, and I sighed.

It couldn't be _that_ bad of a question…right? And I didn't necessarily have to answer it—nope. Not at all.

Dammit. _Why_ did I always end up going along with him again?

"_Fine_," I grumbled. "If you could ask me _one_ question, Snoozles—_just _one question," I emphasized in as threatening a tone as I could, "what would it be?" Fortunately, I noted, I was calming down faster than I'd thought. As long as I focused on what Sokka said, and not on my breath or my heart or any other cliché romantic reactions I may have, I was fine.

And plus, the fire department had reached my cheeks, and the blush had been completely _extinguished_. Oh yeah!

"Hm…" Sokka mused thoughtfully. And I'd been sure he'd spit one out right away. Apparently, he had a different plan in mind.

With a grin, then a solemn look that attempted (but failed) to convey the sentiment 'oh, don't worry, you won't regret this at _all_,' Sokka said, "I'll have to get back to you on that.

I rolled my eyes, partially disgusted with his antics. "What are you doing? Saving your question for the _opportune moment_?" Ugh. I'd just accidentally quoted the Sexiest Pirate of All Time, hadn't I?

Oh, well. Jack Sparrow _was_ sexy, after all—as the title implied.

"Trust me," I advised him. "Opportune moments are pretty hard to find."

"Eh." Sokka shrugged. "I think I can handle it."

"_Sure_ you can," I drawled, tucking my hands behind my head as I leaned back in my chair. "And I'll be waiting for it, too."

"Good. Then we understand each other," Sokka answered promptly.

"Hmph," I said, by way of reply. After a few minutes had past, I became curious of Sokka's silence. Sure, he was supposed to be _thinking_, but this was the guy that couldn't seem to shut up for longer than two minutes.

Wow. Sokka must _really_ be putting the thinking cap on. I, on the other hand, would stick with my badass-cool hat, my awesome hat of awesomeness. And pick juice. Because pickle juice stimulates the brain, I'm telling you. Without pickle juice, I would've failed every test since pre-school.

And they don't even _have_ tests in pre-school.

Back to the point. I was starting to wonder why Sokka was being so silent. Maybe I'd freaked him out by quoting Jack Sparrow too much?

"Hey, Sokka," I said suddenly. "What the hell's taking so long?"

"I'm trying to find the perfect question," Sokka responded. "And they opportune moment hasn't come yet, either."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." It would probably end up to be a stupid, shallow question, anyway.

But…why the hell did he even _care_? Hey, by all rights, _I _shouldn't have cared _why_ he did, either. My curiosity, however, refused to be squished. "And, y'know, that _wasn't_ my tenth question," I pointed out a moment later.

Sokka eyebrows jumped to his hairline as his head swiveled to face me. "It wasn't?"  
"Nope," I smirked. "The tenth question is still ready to be asked."

"Then let's hear it. I'm ready for anything. I am Super Sokka!" he cried, striking a superhero pose. I flicked him in the head, and he clutched the spot, before dropping his hand and declaring unconvincingly, "That didn't hurt. Nope. Not at all. Because superheroes don't _feel_ pain."

I kicked him in the shin, and asked innocently, "So that didn't hurt?"

Sokka's face seized up with the effort not to cry out, but he managed to get out, "Uh-huh. No way. It didn't hurt at all. In fact, if I didn't know better," he said, attempting a mockery of a smile, "I'd say you were trying to play a game of footsie."

With a snort, I scoffed, "Whatever. Now for my question…" I glanced at Sokka. "Why do you even _care_ if you get to ask me a question, Snoozles? Why does it _matter_ to you? 'Cause really, it shouldn't," I told him matter-of-factly. "I mean, people don't _care_ about other people's lives, Snoozles. It just doesn't _happen_."

"Well, I care about your life," Sokka answered firmly. "Because I love you. Actually, I wish I could know _everything_ about your life," he added wistfully, half to himself.

My heart fluttered at that—the 'I love you' part, at least. And his last sentence turned the half-melted ice cube into boiling water, because _jeez_, why did Sokka have to be so freaking sweet?!?! I didn't even _like_ sweet guys! And yet…

Apparently, I was about to do _this_, this random idea that I'd come up with about six seconds ago.

I took a deep breath, and looked away uncomfortably. Man, I couldn't _believe_ that I was doing this…but, honestly, how could it hurt? I mean, there was only a one in a hundred chance of me falling for Sokka.

Seriously. That's only, like, one percent! Who cares if it might have started out at .000001 percent, because, dammit, _one in one hundred was hardly freaking at all_.

But, after I was sure I wasn't smart enough to back out, I sighed, "Well, where do you want me to start?"

Sokka blinked at me. "What do you mean? I don't know what I'm gonna ask you yet—"

"You can keep your damn question, Snoozles," I interrupted in a grumble. "What I'm _saying _is that you can ask me about…me right now, 'kay?" With that, I averted my eyes, and demanded, "So? Are you gonna sit there like a dumbass all day, or are you gonna ask me about all this stuff you've been dying to hear?"

"Yeah—yeah, of course!" he exclaimed, after a moment of sitting there, dumbstruck. "I mean…I mean…as long as you're completely sure and everything. You're…you're in your right mind and all?" Sokka asked carefully.

"No, Snoozles," I reassured him dryly. "No insanity here. Now _ask_," I ordered, giving him the evil eye. With a tiny flinch (I fought back a smug smile), Sokka complied.

"Okay, so, what was your childhood like?" he asked, sounding like he was truly curious. For a moment, I almost blanched. I just couldn't get _used_ to this. Sokka wasn't supposed to _care_ about my life!

Because seriously. No one had ever seemed this interested before, and the chances had just been upped from one in one hundred to one in eighty four. I was about to enter a freaking _crisis mode_ here.

But, after few seconds, I answered him bluntly, "Well, frankly, it sucked. My parents were these huge control freaks, and I never had a real _friend_ until I met Aang Yangchen in third grade. He was the first person to care about me—the real me."

"Do you still keep up with him, then?" Sokka asked, with none of the jealousy I'd expected. Huh. Maybe he could tell even from my casual tone that there was absolutely _nothing_ but friendship between me and Aang.

_Crap_, I realized, half horrified and half in awe, _was Suki freaking _right, _or was she freaking _right?

"Yeah. He started going to a private boarding school in Ba Sing Se a few years ago—Four Nations Academy or something," I replied, forcing myself to focus on answering Sokka's questions. "But he still emails me and stuff.

"Apparently, after two years there, he's _finally_ gotten a girlfriend," I smirked, recalling the many times I'd teased him about it on the phone, or while we were IMing. "Her name starts with a _K_, I think…" I mused to myself.

Seriously, I should meet that chick sometime. All the Taylor Swift songs make it sound so unlikely, but girlfriends and best friends are the perfect tag team for pranks, teasing, and sharing embarrassing stories about the guy in question.

My inner soul let out a cackle. Because I had some _really_ embarrassing Aang stories to share with this girlfriend of his.

"Wait…" Sokka said slowly, a look of dawning realization on his face. "Her name isn't _Katara_, is it?"

"Yeah, that's it—Katara!" I agreed. My eyes narrowed half thoughtfully, half suspiciously. "Wait…how'd you know that?"

"Because she's my _sister_!" he spluttered, eyes wide. "And she's _dating_ your best friend!"

I hooted with laughter. "Well," I snickered, "on the bright side, you don't have to worry about them sleeping together. Aang's a _total_ prude."

"But she's my _sister_!" Sokka repeated, although he looked a little relieved. Obviously, he had Protective Older Brother Syndrome. "And she's _dating_ a _guy_!"

"Would you rather her be dating a girl?" I asked, smirking. Because, I mean, he'd been asking for it. Sokka's air tubes promptly seized up, and his face began to turn purple.

There, there," I soothed him as I hit him across the back as hard as I could, unable to hold back a snigger. Damn, this was _fun_. "It could be worse. She _could_ be dating a rapist."

With a few hacking coughs, Sokka regained his ability to speak. "Believe it or not," he said sourly, "that doesn't do much for me."

I rolled my eyes. "Dumbass," I snapped. "He doesn't even have _hormones_. Ty Lee was shoving her chest in his face for all of middle school and Aang didn't even _notice_.

Sokka brightened considerably. "Hey, maybe he's gay!"

"Hm…" I mused. Because, I mean, seriously, I wouldn't be surprised. "Good guess, but no," I sighed, a moment later. "He made out with Onji in eighth grade."

"Dammit," Sokka grumbled to himself. "I guess we're screwed, then."

"Yeah, you pretty much are," I shrugged, hiding a grin. Now if I could only convinced Aang to abandon his prude-ness, then I could _really_ start stirring up some trouble… "Next question, please."

"Who was your first date?"

My eyes narrowed suspiciously at the change in subject matter. Somehow, I had a feeling that things were about to get very _interesting _for Sokka. "His name was Teo," I answered grudgingly, after a pause.

"What was he like?" Sokka pressed, not even _pretending _not to care. Heh. It was actually kind of amusing to watch him get worked up over stuff I barely thought about anymore.

"He was nice, but a wimp. And let me guess…" I leaned forward, a teasing smile on my lips. "_Now_ you want to know about my first kiss, am I correct?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were psychic," Sokka said in his 'I'm trying not to sound flirty, but you're so freaking hot" voice. Immediately, I leaned back into my chair.

Because _please_, dude. I might've been _this_ close to admitting some serious shit, but that didn't mean I was gonna turn into a freaking _slut_. In fact…trying to be subtle, I tugged the neckline of my shirt up the tiniest bit.

"Aang," I answered bluntly. "It was at a party, on a dare. For some reason, _everyone_ thought we had secret crushes on each other," I continued, recalling the annoyances of my middle school years with a roll of the eyes. Oh, well. Besides the supreme lack of fireworks, it hadn't been _that_ bad kissing Aang. At least I hadn't wasted it on some asshole…like Jet.

Sokka looked slightly doubtful. "And you're _sure_ there was nothing between you and this guy?"

"Dumbass. He's like _family_," I scorned. "Dating _him_ would be like dating my own brother."

We both shuddered. 'Cause, seriously, incest is some disturbing shit, even for people _without_ siblings.

"Wait…" Sokka said after a moment, "This really isn't what I wanted to know about. I want to know about your _life_. As in everything I missed between five years old, and high school. Anything you can remember, from kindergarten to eighth grade."

I started to stare at him in disbelief, blinked a few times to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating, and continued to look at him like he'd just told me he ate raw chicken wings for breakfast. "Snoozles," I told him after a moment, certain that he couldn't _possibly_ be asking me what I thought he was, "_no one_ wants to hear that stuff. It's all…boring."

"I want to hear it," Sokka retorted indignantly. "Does that mean _I'm_ a nobody?"

"Well, yes, but we already knew _that_," I snorted, as Sokka pouted. It was settled—he was _crazy_. But…it couldn't hurt, could it? And thinking about _my_ life would get my mind off of everything else. So…

"Whatever," I grumbled a few seconds later. "But do _not_ interrupt me or ask stupid questions, okay? 'Cause those just _reek_ of the mentality of a four year old. But, I meant, we already knew _that_, too, so what I'm saying is, don't annoy me off, alright?" I clarified after a moment's thought.

Sokka started to protest, paused, and then griped, "Oh, come on, I have the mentality of a ten year old _at least_."

"Are you gonna listen, or not?" I demanded. Properly abashed, Sokka nodded his head, and prepared himself to hear the Story of my Life.

I'm not gonna bore you with all the details of it, but it took about an hour to tell everything—and I mean _everything_. If Sokka wanted all of it, hell, he was gonna _get_ all of it, and every last bit at that.

I explained to him that my parents were super overprotective bitches, even when I was little, and that they had hired these freaky long haired gay guys, Xin Fu and Yu, to take care of me when I was little. As was to be expected with his "at least ten years old" mentality, Sokka asked me why the hell they didn't send me to daycare, where the freaking _normal people worked_.

I barked at him to shut up, and not to question the mystical, stupefying, totally idiotic way of the Bei Fong.

After that came kindergarten. My kindergarten teacher was one of those "children must have _creativity_" types of people, so we spent half of every day launching paint at huge canvases and sticking Play-Doh up our nose. The rest were all total morons, and could've been outsmarted by Homer Simpson.

I told him about the time that I broke my arm when I was seven, and the time that I got sick from eating too much bubble gum toothpaste. I told him that the first time I met Aang, I punched him in the face, and that it was the start of a lifelong history of shenanigans and stomachaches from two much cake. Then, when I'd gotten to the middle school years, I told him about Jin, and Onji.

We poked fun at Zuko's dorkiness (he was our one mutual friend), and his cluelessness around girl's. Also, we made a few cracks about him and Mai, and "dorky goth in love with a dorkier emo," because dude, it is just so freaking _true_.

And, somewhere along the way, I got to actually _enjoying _it. Sokka laughed with me, and I got to laugh _at_ him, too. Heh, there were some pretty funny experiences I'd had during my younger years, actually. By the time I'd finished, I was actually _glad_ that I'd had the conversation. It's _always_ fun to laugh at stuff years after the fact, however hellish it might've seemed at the time.

Plus, I'd stopped worrying about Suki. Seriously, why should I _care_? I didn't even dislike her that much anymore, because honestly, that would just have been stupid. So she dated Sokka. I wasn't gonna go after his exes or anything.

But the feelings I got whenever I looked at Sokka were still there, if subtle. I could still feel the giddiness rushing through me, making my pulse thud in my ears and my heart leap into my throat. The strange part was that it didn't feel entirely _bad_ anymore. In fact, it was almost…exhilarating. I felt like a normal teenager again.

Except I knew that me and Sokka weren't anything close to a normal teenage relationship. We were…different. Sturdier, somehow. Stronger. Less likely to crumble in the face of our problems. Maybe 'stubborn' was the right word.

Yeah, that was it. Sokka and I were stubborn people, and if—hypothetical, got it, bitches?—_if _we were ever to get in a relationship, we would be _just_ as stubborn about letting it go to pieces.

And plus, I didn't think that there'd be much risk of that, anyway. We got along splendidly, to use a bit of 19th century phrasing. Sure, there was bicker and banter, but without that, everything would get so freaking _boring_. I wasn't gonna analyze every bit of it, but our personalities were pretty damn compatible.

So, yeah. In conclusion, Sokka and I were pretty much perfect for each other. The realization curdled in my stomach, and sat there all throughout sixth and seventh grade.

Because there was a feeling in me that felt a little like, "This isn't happening to you. I mean, this just doesn't freaking _happen_ to you. Nothing this good _ever_ happens to you. At least, nothing as good as Sokka Kuruk."

But it _was_ happening to me, right here and now. Right at this second, as I shared my life story with Sokka, and as he drank it all up like it was the seventh book of Harry Potter.

And by the time we'd finished talking, if there was one thing I was sure of, it was this:

Sokka was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And y'know what?

I was starting to think that maybe "the best thing that ever happened to me" was a little _too_ good to pass up.

**

* * *

**

So. Yeah-ish.

Sokka was great, period. Pretty much the best thing that had ever happened to me.

I mean. His awesomeness level was probably around 1300 right now, and dude, no one _ever_ gets that high, seriously.

Even _Chuck Norris_. Yeah, that's right. Sokka might even be better than _Chuck Norris_.

So the chances that I was in love with him were probably about, oh, three out of four.

And I mean in his _favor_. Like, there was a seventy five percent chance I was in love with Sokka Kuruk.

Hell, screw percentages: it was time to come clean, the whole she-bang (and I didn't even know what the hell a "she-bang" was, except maybe old person slang for lesbians screwing each other).

Because I was in love with Sokka Kuruk.

And I had run all out of excuses.

* * *

**A/N: **GO TO MY PROFILE RIGHT NOW AND CLICK THE LINK TO "TOKKA—ONLY HOPE." It is one of the best Tokka vids I've EVER scene, but unfortunately, it's on LiveVideo, and hasn't gotten many views :-[

I realize that I've been making a lot of polls in the past few weeks, but it would be great if you could vote on my newest poll :) Because it will really impact the last few chapters of _I'd Lie_, and probably the pure Tokka fluff you're going to get. So go vote. 'KAY?!?! :D

Also, if you could kindly mention the _chapter_ in your reviews, and not the fact that I finally, FINALLY updated, I'd really appreciate it :) It would be cool to see a little more _meat_ on those reviews, y'know? I KNOW Toph and Sokka would be happy about it, those meat loving people :D


	12. Chapter 11: HeroHeroine

"I'm hungry," Sokka said, as his stomach let out an obnoxiously loud growl. Several passersby turned to stare. "Are you?"

My stomach replied with an even louder growl. "What do you think?"

"So, do we get lunch, or do we go straight to dessert?" Sokka contemplated.

Was that even a _question_?

"Dessert," we said at once.

Sokka raced over to the stand wafting cinnamon scent, the line mercifully short. "Mmm...churros..." His face melted into a gooey mess of smitten love and joy.

And _no_, if that's what you're thinking: I was _not_ freaking jealous of the churros. I had better things to worry about—like when I'd get to eat them myself.

The customer was handed his paper wrapped pastry, and Sokka was next in line. "Get outta the way, dumbass," I demanded, pushing past him.

Because. Seriously. _Nobody_ gets in the way of me and my churros.

* * *

_It's too late baby, there's no turning around  
I've got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud  
This is how I do  
When I think about you  
I never thought that you could break me apart  
I keep a sinister smile and a hold of my heart  
You want to get inside  
Then you can get in line  
But not this time_

_Cause you caught me off guard  
Now I'm running and screaming_

—Hero/Heroine, Boys Like Girls  
_(Note: It's supposed to be from Toph's POV, despite being sung by a group of guys. xD)_

* * *

So. Um. Yes.

If you'll remember, I'd just confessed. Confessed that I was in love with Sokka Kuruk, that is.

I better go out and repeat it for everyone that didn't catch it: I was freaking in _love_ with Sokka Kuruk.

Wow. Every time I thought it, I nearly did a double take. And nearly swelled up with the warm, fuzzy, dreamy, _swoony_ feeling I got inside.

Pretty much the biggest confession of my life. To myself, of course, but that's always the hardest part. And now that I finally had all my facts straight, I had to actually _think_ things through for once in my life.

And I'd realized something:

I had to tell Sokka.

I mean, it wasn't like it was _optional_ or something. He was in love with me, I knew _that_, but, but…telling him…how _could_ I? Admitting it to myself was one (immensely difficult) thing. Admitting it to Sokka was…was on a whole different level.

There _was_ a bright side, however. I still had nearly a week to tell him. Y'know. To make _sure_ that I wanted to. Besides, we didn't have anything to _lose_ by this. Just—for Sokka, at least—a few more days of not knowing.

Yeah. So, as of currently, my confession to Sokka was pretty much condemned to the very last day of my stay here. And I was feeling pretty relieved about it, too.

I was kinda surprised about one thing, though. Not much had changed about the way I felt about Sokka. I mean, I'd been in love with him yesterday and the day before that, too, so why _should_ anything change? For some reason, though, I'd been expecting it. But I was still Toph, and he was still Sokka. Nothing was ever gonna change that.

If anything, it only made it easier to handle the flipping stomach and the pounding heart, and the occasional blush, because I didn't have to ignore it any longer. It felt..._good_. In fact, waking up that morning to see the sun pouring in through the blinds, I felt better than I had in a _long_ time.

It was thanks to Snoozles, I reminded myself as I hopped out of bed. I liked my nickname for him, and somehow, I felt that it would be sticking for a while longer. Of course, Sokka was still a dumbass, and he could still be annoying...but that was okay, y'know? The good times balanced out the bad. It was just the way things worked.

I almost reminded myself that I was being sickeningly optimistic and not at all like my badass self, but I knew it would kick in after breakfast. When I was around Sokka, I didn't have to be anyone _but_ my super ultra badass self, and he was okay with that.

_Thanks, whoever you are_, I added silently as I through on a tank top, some cut-off jeans, and strolled down the stairs. _Y'know. For Sokka._

My gag reflex kicked in automatically, and I took that back. There was a certain line that I would _not_ cross. _Right. I'm still badass and stuff_, I reminded Whomever. _And Sokka's a moron. And whatever._

_Thanks anyway_.

I shoved all of these pesky thoughts to the back of my mind, knowing that I couldn't take any more of this cliche crap. Besides, I could hear Sokka eating this cereal, and unless the way I felt about him had changed in the past thirty seconds (and it hadn't), I would_ love_ to join him.

* * *

Two hours later, Sokka and I were walking along the boardwalk. We'd gotten there something like this: I complained that there was nothing to do, Sokka mentioned the boardwalks (and churros), and bam! We were here.

Well, okay, there was transportation involved: Sokka's car. But no self respecting narrator _ever_ spends time on boring shit like that, am I right?

We were walkin' along, and I, having purchased a snow-cone a few minutes beforehand, was happily licking away. (To the perverts out there: shut the hell up, okay?!?!) It was gonna be a pretty good day, I figured. I was in love with Sokka, my feelings were no longer rebelling against me, seeing as I was on their side, and—

"Hey, baby. Did you miss me?" a voice asked smoothly from a few feet behind me.

Sokka looked half confused and half shaken with rage that anyone would dare talk to me like this. "Cool it, Snoozles," I instructed, as I shook my head, disgusted, and ready to punch the crap outta him—probably some asshole from school. But then I realized that I _knew_ that voice.

"Jet," I growled out, halting in my tracks.

Sokka glanced at me, still irked. "Who?" he asked, perplexed.

"Hold this," I said, shoving the remainder of my dripping snow cone into Sokka's hand. Striding towards Jet, I saw him with one arm around some girl in the tightest clothes I'd ever seen.

He looked really pathetic, going out with a sleazy girl because he couldn't get a decent one. I wondered how I'd ever missed before. Jet _disgusted_ me.

"Hi, sweetie," he smirked. "Long time no see."

I smiled sweetly back. "How wonderful to see you again, Jet, supreme asshole of the universe," I said.

The girl on his arm looked shocked, and slightly angry. "Jet," she muttered, glaring at me, "let's get out of—"

"Don't worry," Jet interrupted, still sneering at me. "She's all bark and no bite. All _this_ little girl can do is talk tough. Before long, she'll be running away with her tail between her legs," he taunted, a cruel edge coming into his voice.

He was taunting and teasing and being a complete asshole to a girl he'd once dated (and said that he _loved_, for God's sake): _me_.

That was the moment.

That was the moment when I realized that, _beyond_ being a total asshole, Jet wasn't worth my painful emotions, or my energy, _or_ my thoughts. He could take a dive straight of the edge of a cliff for all I cared. Jet wasn't worth a second of my time.

But Sokka _was_.

Sokka wasn't gonna run off and start dating _tramps_, and he wasn't gonna cheat on me in the first place. He would be there for me through it all, unlike the two faced bastard in front of me.

He. Was. _Amazing_. Which was, y'know, something I'd normally never have admitted to, but goddammit, it was _true_. Sokka Kuruk _was_ amazing, and every other form of the word.

And Jet was farthest from it.

So, without a moment of hesitation, I kicked him as hard as I could in the crotch. A look of pain and shock replaced the smug expression on his face, and his hands dropped from around the shoulders of his sluttily dressed girlfriend to clutch at his injured appendage.

"That was for all the time I had to waste getting over you, you bastard," I told him plainly. "But y'know what? It's taken a hell of a lot longer than it should, but I'm not gonna waste another second, another _millisecond_, thinking about you. Because you know what?"

I had already turned, and was walking away. Goodbye, loser. Have a nice—sorry, I mean shitty—life.

Flipping him the bird over my shoulder, I called out to Jet, "I am _way_ too good for you, asshole. And for your information," I added, relishing the moment as I yelled it across the boardwalk, "my bite is _much_, _much_ worse than my bark."

Sokka stared at me, partly in awe, and partly in apprehension, as I marched to him and snatched my snow cone back. Noticing that the cone contained substantially less than before, I rolled my eyes and through it in the trash. I should've _known_ that Sokka would steal my flavored ice. Dumbass. Didn't he know I'd get mad at him for that?

Today, though...I didn't feel like it, to be honest. I mean, frozen water isn't all that filling—and this would give me an excuse to buy one of the churros I'd been longing for earlier. Plus, I was just...happy, and I was gonna let Sokka ruin that.

"Who was that?" Sokka asked warily, glancing back at Jet as he toppled over onto the boardwalk, _still_ clutching his crotch. I sniggered. What a _wimp_. "Toph, not that you aren't worth all the bail money you're put up for, but _please_ tell me you're not gonna get charged with assault," Sokka squeaked.

My snigger turned into a giggle. I was walking on Cloud 9. I was happier than I'd ever been, and it's wasn't even 'cause of Jet: it was 'cause of _Sokka_. _He_ was the one that made me happy. Jet had just been clogging things up a bit.

"Snoozles," I chortled, "don't worry about it. I'm not an assaulted. That jerk you saw back there, however, is a traitorous, bastardly, cheating asshole," I explain cheerfully, beginning to walk along the boardwalk again.

"Um…okay," Sokka shrugged. "That _was_ actually pretty funny," he added, a grin spreading across his face. Apparently, my good mood was catching on. "You completely kicked his ass."

"I know," I agreed, smiling broadly. "I _was_ pretty freaking awesome, wasn't I?"

"As you always are," Sokka put in, unable to resist a chance to lay on a compliment. This time, I rolled my eyes.

What an idiot. Couldn't he figure it the hell _out_ already? Apparently not.

Well, I wasn't gonna make it _easy_ for him, that was for sure. Sokka could figure out I was in love with him on his own…though odds were that I'd have to tell him myself on my last day here.

"And the look on his face," I smirked. "Now _that_ was hilarious."

We laughed. Then, I realized I better tone it down a bit. 'Cause I was in a good mood, seriously, but even though I'd complained, I didn't really want Sokka to know that I was in love with him yet. And even once he _did_, I was still snarky. And sarcastic. And not cheery or chipper at all.

"I mean," I cleared my throat. "It was funny. Yeah. But you're still a dumbass and stuff."

Sokka appeared unsurprised. "I expected that," he shrugged. We continued walking—well, bouncing along. After a moment, Sokka asked me, "So, honestly...who _was_ that?"

My happiness deteriorated just a little bit. I didn't like talking about Jet. Oh, well. It was Sokka, I reminded myself. The guy I was in love with. So I could at least _try_ to answer it. For him.

I immediately realized how cliche I was acting, turned briefly red, and decided to do it for _me_, and _not_ for Sokka. Because I was _independent_, dammit, whether I was in love with Sokka or not.

"I dated Jet for two years," I explained to Sokka. "I kind of...err..." Shifting awkwardly, I voiced tentatively, "Loved him? Maybe?"

Sokka turned purple. "And yet," he said, clearly indignant, "you don't love _me_."

I rolled my eyes and punched him in the shoulder. How very wrong he was. "Love works in mysterious ways. Don't question it, or you'll probably...you'll probably...well, you'll end up like a male version of an old cat lady," I said lamely, as Sokka began to panic at the thought.

"Anyway, I didn't realize what an asshole he was until I found out that he was cheating on me," I continued, clearing my throat once. I wasn't gonna go into the confrontation, and what happened when I, outraged, confronted him with his crimes. Jet didn't own up to it, but he'd hurled insult after insult at me, using everything I'd ever told him against me. Sometimes, it _still_ bugged me. But as I'd told Sokka, he was an asshole, and I didn't deserve to angst over him. "I dumped him right after that."

I waited for an "Oh," and maybe a shrug—something like that. When it didn't come, I turned to look at Sokka, and instead found an angry expression on his face.

"What the _hell_?" Sokka said furiously. "He _cheated _on you?" His teeth were gritted, and it was obvious that he was channeling some of my anger towards Jet. "Toph," he said, taking a deep breath in order to calm himself down, "no matter what happens, or who you end up with..." Sokka swallowed. "You deserve someone better than that ...than that _bastard_."

"I know I do, Snoozles," I answered quietly, strangely touched by the fact that he was mad on _my_ behalf. Maybe I was right...maybe Sokka was actually a _decent guy_.

Now _that_ was a shocker. Sure, he was okay, and he wasn't a cheater, like Jet. But I had very high standards of "decent." So...maybe he was halfway there. _If_ I was in a charitable mood—which, as of currently, I was.

"Just...just to know..." He cleared his throat awkwardly, a tiny blush on his face. Sokka didn't look at me, but kept his eyes stubbornly ahead. "You two...I mean...you never..."

"Slept with him?" I surmised, smirking as Sokka went a dark red. "No, actually," I revealed. "I didn't." And I was glad about it, too. Jet was _not_ the kind of person I was gonna waste my virginity on.

"Oh. Good, then," Sokka muttered darkly. "Because, if you had, I'd have to go and...y'know...castrate him."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please, you wimp," I scoffed. "Leave the castrating to _me_."

Sokka looked like he was going to object, but was momentarily distracted by his growling stomach. "I'm hungry. Are you?"

My stomach joined the symphony of growls with the loudest yet. Sokka stared, bug eyed. "What do you think?" I answered.

"So, do we get lunch, or do we go straight to dessert?" Sokka mused. We exchanged a glance.

"Dessert," we agreed in unison.

The stands on the board walk, fortunately, offered a variety of sweets to choose from. "Mmm...churros..." Sokka drooled.

"Get outta the way, dumbass," I ordered, shoving him behind me in order to reach the vendor. "Two churros, please," I ordered. The old man running the stand handed the cinnamon-y sticks to me, quaking in his shoes.

Wow. I really _did_ scare everybody, didn't I?

Sokka reached for one of my churros, but I held him off. "What the hell do you think you're _doing_?" I demanded. "And make that my eleventh question, two," I added. It wasn't like I'd have time to think of another one. Besides, I had plenty of time left to grill Sokka. "These churros are for _me_. You'll have to get your own."

He shot me a dark glance. "If I didn't love you, I would _so_ hate you," he grumbled, reaching into his pocket for a few bucks and handing them to the vendor.

"Hmph," I replied, mouth too full of churro to add anything more. A bench sat a few feet away, and Sokka and I plopped down onto it, one after the other. There, we enjoyed our churros.

Churros, in case you didn't know, are the food of the gods. Seriously. Your mythology teacher might _tell_ you that they all eat ambrosia, but they're lying. I mean, c'mon. Do you really think that Zeus would settle for anything _less_ than the Best Food on Earth? (And there are, like, six of them, but whatever. Churros are up there.)

I didn't think so.

Although I had two churros, and Sokka had only one, I was starving for cinnamon, and finished before he did. Licking my fingers, I glanced over at him, and immediately snorted.

"Snoozles, your churro is all over your face," I snickered. Cinnamon was smeared around Sokka's mouth, on his lips...everywhere.

Sokka wiped his face with the back of his hand, only managing to smear it a hell of a lot more than it was before. "Did I get it?" he asked, downing the last bites of his churro.

I sighed. Did I have to do _everything_ for him? "No," I snapped, my patience wearing thin. Reaching my thumb out to his face, I wiped away the sugary goodness without thinking, and sucked off my thumb in my mouth.

Then, we both froze. A blush began to creep across my face as I realized what a stupid, oblivious, _cliche_ move I'd just made.

There was nothing to say. There were no words _to_ say, because none of them could describe my humiliation at that moment. Okay, well, there weren't any _English_ words. Maybe there were some random phrases in Cherokee or Navajo or something, but I spoke English, and even Webster couldn't have found a single word that came without a hundred miles of a proper description.

Sokka looked shocked. Then, a smug expression crept across his face. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to slap him as hard as I could or kiss that smirk right off his face. (It was probably the former.)

"You love me," Sokka said authoritatively. Embarrassment and rage surged through me once more. He was right, of course, but no _way_ was I gonna tell him that.

In fact, _just_ because he'd said that, I would _not_ confess to Sokka until I absolutely had to. Ha. Now _that_ was punishment. For now...

"Shut the hell up, moron!"

Ah, the joys of love.

* * *

So. Yeah. I was in love. With Sokka.

And, for once, there wasn't anything suspenseful or any shocking realizations to come to.

Except maybe that I was over and done with Jet.

Which was, y'know. Good. _Very_ good, in fact.

Of course, Sokka was still a moron. But that was okay. Sorta. I mean, I didn't really care anymore, 'cause I'd known that _before_ I'd fallen in love with him.

And now, out of denial and still with a week left with Sokka, there was only one thing left to do:

Kick ass (mainly of the Kuruk type), rewatch The Dark Knight fifteen times (with Sokka present, of course), gorge myself on Baskin Robins Rocky Road ice cream, and _enjoy_.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to all of you who reviewed last chapter, and every chapter before that! :) Here's hoping you can review this one, too. 8D In fact, I have a deal for you, to motivate me AND you: for every person that reviews, I will write a hundred words of I'd Lie. That means that if 20 people review, I write 2000 words; 30 people would be 3000 words, and so on.

Next chapter was going to be the ridiculously fluffy kinda crap that never got any reviews before, so I really have no idea what I'm going to write for it. *sighs* I'm depleted of ideas, lol. Any suggestions? They'll help the aforementioned deal along a lot. :3

P.S. Teh poll of potential Tokka fanfictions is up on my profile. I ask this every time, I know...but would you mind voting? 8D I like feedback from readers.

P.P.S. Le sigh. To the dude who I was forced to write to last chapter: you did not harrass me. However, I'd prefer it if you told me what you liked about the story, instead of complaining about updates.


	13. Chapter 12: I'd Lie

Just scram, alright?

Seriously, this wasn't the time for _introductions_! I was too _busy_, 'kay?

Because guess what?

And you will not believe this. But, heh, maybe you will. I've been surprised before.

Here goes:

Today was the day that I, Toph Bei Fong, was going to tell Sokka Kuruk that I was in love him—hell, that I loved him, _period_.

Shocker, isn't it? What can I say?

I'm a freaking _rebel_.

**

* * *

**

_He looks around the room  
Innocently overlooks the truth  
Shouldn't a light go on  
Doesn't he know I've had him memorized for so long  
He sees everything in black and white  
Never let nobody see him cry  
I don't let nobody see me wishing he was mine  
And I could tell you _

_I could tell you his favorite colors green  
He likes to argue, born on the seventeenth  
His sister's beautiful, he has his father's eyes  
And if you ask me if I love him,  
I'd lie _

_He stands there then walks away  
My God if I could only say  
I'm holding every breath for you... _

—I'd Lie, Taylor Swift

**

* * *

**

So. Right.

Yesterday, I'd sort of, um, admitted that I was in love with Sokka Kuruk (_again_), as well as kicked my dirty, rotten, bastard of an ex in the balls? Yeah. All in all, it was an _awesome_ day.

The sun, though (that asshole) set, as always, and soon enough, I was waking up...flipping off my alarm clock...stepping out of bed...okay, you get the point.

And then, suddenly, I was reaching for the doorknob, but I couldn't. I couldn't reach out and touch it and open the effing door and go down and see Sokka, and worst of all, I didn't know _why_. I wanted to. I wanted to so freaking badly that you have no idea.

But I guess, somewhere, I understood that this was the climax. This was the day when I would tell Sokka Kuruk everything that I'd realized about him. This was that day—I could feel it in my bones.

Immediately, my stomach seized up on me. God, this was retarded. Why was I still nervous? This was the _end_, dammit! This was the part where the credits rolled across the screen and everyone left the theatre smiling!

But even though it might by the end for _them_, I realized, it wasn't the end for _me_. In fact, it was more like a...beginning. Yeah.

So I figured that I wasn't exactly nervous. I was anticipating the rest of today. 'Cause trust me: I really wanted to tell Sokka. Then, we could both get on to the good stuff. And I wanted to do that, too—I really, _really_ did. All that I had to do was, well, do it.

And on that thirteenth day (unlucky, haha) that was exactly what I was going to do: _do it_.

I took a deep breath, and headed down the stairs. When I reached the kitchen, I heard the radio blaring from it's stance besides Sokka's bowl of cereal. I slid an Eggo waffle into the toaster, than sat down across from him. _"Guess I'm wishing my life away-ay-ay with these things I'll never say_," Avril sang between us.

Not today, Avril. Today, I'm going to say it all.

The weird thing was that I didn't even _remember_ that song being a single. What the hell...? Ah, well. Today, I'd spare the Satan Conspiring girl the grief.

"Good morning," Sokka greeted through a mouthful of Frosted Flakes. He swallowed.

"Hey, Snoozles," I answered. God, he didn't even _know_ what I was going to tell him. Sokka was just...oblivious.

But then again, he was _Sokka_. I mean, in what lifetime was he _not_ dense? And anyway, I was pretty damn sure that he got some freaking _good_ grades. Sokka _had_ been accepted to Kyoshi University, after all, and it was a _really_ good school. Fortunately, it was also only a half hour away from my house, _wink wink_.

My waffles popped up, and I rose up to grab them. I sat back down a moment later, and began to smother my waffles in syrup. My first bite was like—sugary, fattening, teeth rotting heaven. I never liked my dentist, anyway. Stupid _fluoride_. They didn't even have any _good_ flavors, dammit! Hello? Haven't you ever heard of _watermelon_?

Anyway, we sat there, ate our breakfast, and sort of...bantered. Like we did _every _day. Sokka mentioned that I looked beautiful (even _with _my bed-head). I denied it. He tried to convince me, I rolled my eyes while trying not to blush, etc.

Then, he got on a tirrade about his manliness (and something about how much he loved meat). I, being far manlier than he was—despite being, um, a _girl—_challenged him to an arm wrestling contest.

I think you can guess who won.

So it was a typical morning, really.

Except. It wasn't typical at all.

After about an hour, I went to go get dressed, and Sokka went to his room. I reached in my closet, and picked out specifically cut-off jean capris and a light green tank top. To top it off, I put on my faded white belt and tucked my short, dark hair behind my ears.

I looked in the mirror, and nodded in satisfaction. No make-up. I hadn't needed it these past few days—why should I need it to day?

With one last glance at myself, I strode out of the room and barged through Sokka's door. He was sitting on his bed, strumming at his guitar.

I hadn't heard him sing in...what, a week? It felt like a long time. I'd have to get him to play for me more...

I rolled my eyes when I realized that the song he was singing was "Hanging By a Moment," another one of my favorite songs by Lifehouse. Obviously, Sokka had delved into a whole new realm of cheesiness. If he was going to sing a song to me, he could at least make sure that I was around.

But I knew there would be all the time in the world to make fun of Sokka's romantic side, so I just leaned on the doorframe and listened to the rest of the song.

"_Desperate for changing  
Starving for truth  
I'm closer to where I started  
Chasing after you...._

_I'm falling even more in love with you  
Letting go of all I've held onto  
I'm standing here until you make me move  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you  
I'm living for the only thing I know  
I'm running and not quite sure where to go  
And I don't know what I'm diving into  
Just hanging by a moment here with you_

_Just hanging by a moment (here with you)  
Hanging by a moment (here with you)  
Hanging by a moment here with you"_

The chord drifted away, but Sokka's voice held the last word for a few seconds afterwards. At that second, I knew that I was absolutely _right_ about Sokka Kuruk. I'd realized since yesterday that he wasn't exactly Chuck Norris awesome, but, y'know. He was Neville Longbottom awesome. Maybe. So, yeah. I was-oh correct-oh.

But when _aren't_ I right? Seriously. Name _once_. Not uncluding the fact that I, err, swore I wouldn't fall in love with Sokka a mere ten days ago. It doesn't count. Because I said so.

Sokka seemed to sense my presence. He looked up at me, startled at first. Then, Sokka grinned. "Hey, Toph," he said, in a sing-song, I'm-so-happy-to-see-you-that-you-have-no-idea voice. "What's up?" Sokka added, as he set his guitar down on the floor.

I meant to say something—_anything_—before those fateful three words. Unfortunetely, my mouth wasn't cooperating. So I took a few steps towards Sokka, and with no preamble whatsoever, I blurted out, "You dumbass—I _love _you."

For a few seconds, Sokka stared at me, shocked. Then, a grin spread across his face. He pumped his arm into the air as he leapt off of the bed. "I _knew_ it!" Sokka crowed. "Didn't I _tell_ you? I _told_ you that you would fall in love with me!"

Finally, it seemed to sink in. Sokka stared at me, dazed, a smile still on his face. His expression was so joyful and kind and so _loving_ that I never wanted the moment to end—but, obviously, it did.

"You _love_ me," Sokka repeated. "You actually—you actually _love _me."

I couldn't take it any longer. "Yeah, yeah, we get it," I sighed. "Now will you stop repeating it and just do _something_, you moron?"

"I'd be happy to," Sokka agreed. He walked forward until he was standing right in front of me, and kissed me. I kissed back with everything I had. To be honest, it wasn't the longest kiss in the world—a minute, maybe? But it was our first _real_ kiss, so that was okay.

Well, sort of. Besides, I assured my raging hormones, there'd be plenty of time to make out _later_.

Sokka grinned at me again, and I was grinning myself—hell, even wider than _he_ was. Then, in a move so _Sokka_ I couldn't _believe_ I hadn't seen it coming, he stepped backward, stumbled, and pulled us both tumbling onto his bed. I ended up sitting near the headboard with Sokka's head in my lap.

"Oops," he said weakly.

At first, I giggled. Then, I began to laugh harder than I had in a long time, and Sokka was laughing with me. We roared until we were left, chests heaving, panting away our euphoria.

After we'd stopped chuckling to ourselves, Sokka snuggled closer to me, wrapping his hands around my middle. His cheek pressed against my stomach, and my hands drifted down to rest on his hair.

It was sickeningly cute, but it was _perfect_, and it was all _mine_.

Then, one of us spoke.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life."

At first, I though Sokka said it. But then, I realized that he hadn't.

It was me.

And it was two hundred and fifty thousand percent _true_.

"Me, either," Sokka agreed.

I could not freaking _believe_ that I'd just said that. My cheeks were burning like they never had before. Someone needed to call the firehouse over here—_now_.

"I did _not_ mean that," I said immediately. "I mean. I was _definetely_ happier when I was eating that churro yesterday."

"Ah, yes," Sokka said solemny, as he sat up, lifting his head from my lap. He looped his arm around me, and commented sarcastically, "I should've _known_ that I'd loose out to the churros in the end."

"Even _you_ can't compete with deep fried, cinamon goodness. Hello. It's the first rule of a relationship with Toph Bei Fong: you will _always_ come second to sugar," I reminded him.

He pouted, but agreed, "I _guess_ that's okay. Meat will always be _my_ number one," Sokka shrugged. I smirked slightly.

I could _tell_ that he was lying, but I decided not to say anything. Instead, I leaned my head against his shoulder. "So," I began, "would you happen to want to...y'know..." My cheeks flushed intensely, almost as dark as they had a minute ago. "Were you planning to stay a little longer than twenty days?"

He stared at me like he couldn't believe his ears. In fact, he probably _couldn't_. I could hardly believe it myself. "No..." Sokka said slowly, "But it wouldn't be to hard to make a change in my plans."

"Would you...would you..." I swallowed. "You wouldn't mind company, would you?" I said, sounding awkward, even to myself.

Sokka's grin was so bright it hurt my eyes. "I wouldn't mind it at all."

"Then...I guess I'll be staying here a little longer," I said, nodding in satisfaction. My parents would be difficult to convince, but they'd probably given up on my by now. "I was figuring that we could...get to know each other," I added. I flushed _again_, realizing that it sounded _way_ more perverted than I'd intended.

By now, I wouldn't have been surprised if Sokka's smile was wide enough to cause him physical pain. "You read my mind."

"I _told_ you I was special," I smirked. Okay, that was a lie. I hadn't told him so, but I'd sure said it in every other way.

"You didn't have to. I knew it all along," Sokka said proudly, as if this was some amazing feat. And maybe it was. Jet sure didn't realize it. But Sokka had, and maybe that was what made _him_ so special, too.

I hated to admit it, but sitting here, in Sokka's arms, feeling happier than I could ever remember...well, I really thought I could get used to this.

**

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**

As for the profound ending you've all been waiting for?

I love Sokka, and he loved me.

And to be perfectly honest with you, I don't think it could get any better than that.

**

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**

"Tell me, how do you feel about a wedding in Vegas?"

"Don't make me hit you."

"No, I'm serious! We could get one of those fake Elvis' and _everything_!"

_Thwack_.

"_Ow_!"

**

* * *

**

Well. Mostly.

**.FIN.**

**

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A/N:** For the record, they do NOT get married in Vegas.

...Or DO they? ;)

You'll have to wait for the sequel to find out.

I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed I'd Lie...and if you haven't, I'd like to ask you to do so now! It's the last chapter. It's your last chance to appease my lust for reviews, so review like your life depends on it! ;D Let's hope we can surpass fifty reviews this chapter, LOL.


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